The Warriors of Valishna (Cartharia Book 1)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  TWENTY-SIX

  You are of the Commission

  THAT NIGHT, THE CAMP HOSTED A CELEBRATION. Matilyn knew it was at least partly due to her promotion to commander, but she also knew it was to celebrate the safe arrival of her men.

  After her conversation with Rafinnel, Cori had approached, saluting Matilyn and addressing her by her new title. She'd been informed of the promotion just hours before Matilyn had spoken with the battle-master. She showed Matilyn the drafted order of her promotion. It was written in another hand but Rafinnel's signature--shaky but genuine--lent authenticity to the document.

  "You've been here a lot longer than I have," Matilyn said, "I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to usurp any command you have."

  "I never wanted to be a commander," Cori assured her, "I fought for Arinford because the Black King terrorized my home and my people but I never wanted to lead. I only became a lieutenant because of a lack of experienced men. I knew the area better than most."

  Matilyn nodded.

  "Besides," Cori said, "You will make a good commander. I should introduce you to the other lieutenants. Some are still out of camp but the majority came back this morning."

  After that, there was a long round of introductions as Matilyn met almost a dozen men and women. She could hardly remember any of their names. That night, though, she sat at a long table with most of them.

  "Congratulations once again on your promotion," said Arthimur Stini, one of the men she'd been introduced to that morning, "It'll be nice to have a good, solid leader here. It's been difficult without a proper chain of command."

  "How have you been handling decisions with the Battle-Master in the state he's in?" Matilyn asked.

  "By way of vote," Cori supplied, "We meet every other morning, those of us in the camp anyway, and we go over everything we have found out in the last day and we vote on what we ought to do next. Of course, that will come to an end now, under your leadership."

  "It doesn't have to come to a complete end," Matilyn said, "I need advice from all of you. There's no way I can manage without it."

  Stini nodded, "We'll be happy to advise you," he said, "As much as we can, anyway. I have about a dozen reports for you to go over."

  Matilyn blinked.

  "And I have close to the same," Cori said.

  "And," a lieutenant named Alexis Morgans added her voice to the mix, "I have reports about supply that need to be addressed and soon."

  Cori nodded, "Right," she said, "and we have to write reports to send back with the couriers. We need to let the capital know of the various situations here."

  "There's been a problem with liquor," Morgans added, "I have an idea drafted bout it."

  "It's not a problem," Stini said.

  "It is a problem," Morgans said, "We don't want men getting drunk."

  "They're not getting drunk, they're just partaking a little," Stini argued. "If we take away their alcohol, we're going to have a morale problem. It's happened before."

  Matilyn felt overwhelmed by everything. She looked around for Janice and Sean. They were seated nearby but they were busy having a whispered conversation. She sighed and turned back to the group, "We'll go over everything tomorrow morning," she promised, "Perhaps there's some sort of compromise we can come to."

  The group nodded.

  "Is it true?" Morgans asked, "About stealing the ships? You stole them from Lamonte men?"

  Matilyn nodded, "We did."

  "They must have been very unprepared," Stini said, "I can hardly believe they'd allow that to happen. Fresh recruits, perhaps. Did you lose many men?"

  Matilyn glanced at Stini. She thought of Sasha Allen for the first time in a while, and shook her head, "Not many," she said, "But the men we did lose were heavily mourned."

  Stini nodded.

  "Excuse me? Commander?" A cracking, young voice drew Matilyn's attention and she turned to see a young, almost familiar boy staring at her. Her breath caught in her throat; he couldn't have been older than the Lamonte troops she'd killed. She'd be surprised if he could even shave yet.

  "Yes?" Matilyn asked. She couldn't look away.

  "Rory Remmus," the boy said. There was an awkward silence while Matilyn waited for him to continue, "I'm from Valishna as well," he confided, "I deployed with Lieutenant Stini's men."

  Matilyn cut her gaze to Stini. To his credit, he met her gaze unflinchingly. She shook her head and returned her attention to the young soldier, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Rory. Not many of us made it out of Valishna alive."

  Rory nodded. He swallowed a few times and then held up the bag he was hauling around, "I'm passing out mail for your men, Commander. I wanted to bring your letters first."

  Matilyn nodded her thanks and took the mail he offered out. The first was from her father. She smiled down at the familiar handwriting, so much like her own. The second was from Penelope Arris. She stared at her name for a long moment and then tucked both letters in her vest, "Thank you, Rory."

  "Of course," Rory said. He quickly snapped a salute and then hurried away to pass out the rest of the letters.

  She watched him go, her mood deflating. She could only think of the soldiers from Lamonte, the ones with young eyes, young faces, and wondered if they were as nervous and eager as Rory Remmus.

  In the weeks to come, Matilyn would have no idea how she sat through the first of the meetings. It was long, tedious and there had been so much decorum to learn and observe.

  She'd met most of the lieutenants the night before but was reintroduced in the morning meeting. There was Lieutenant Cori, Stini, Morgans, Audern, Cale, and many others. It was overwhelming for to think of how many men were under each of their commands.

  The charge leaders informed her of every squadron beneath them, their numbers, and what they specialized in, and how experienced they were. There were dozens of reports read out loud, and several more written up for her to read. These included everything from casualty reports to water and food usage data.

  Matilyn was forced to start making decisions almost immediately regarding things she'd never even thought of before. She found out their food supplies were in good condition but they were running low on bandages and alcohol and would need replenished soon. She ordered a temporary moratorium on liquor, despite Stini's arguments on the matter.

  Lieutenant Cale, as it turned out, led the Chained Fire Charge; almost everyone of his squadrons focused on fire manipulation. She listened to his reports, trying to swallow back the resentment that rose in her throat. She couldn't help but think of the charred men from the northern forward post and how the fire had consumed them.

  Lieutenant Audern introduced Matilyn to one of her captains; a man named George Heff. Jeff led a squadron made up of entirely scouts. They were responsible for going out and finding information pertaining to the enemy troops.

  Part of Matilyn had always imagined rushing straight to Sullivan's castle, laying siege to it, and taking out the Black King. She began to realize how impossible that idea was. First, they would have to take out numerous defensive troops stationed nearby. There were at least twenty large castles to take out and each required its own strategy.

  When they finished taking out the defensive castles, they could move onto the city itself. Lamonte's capitol had large, stone walls that surrounded it; they would have to lay siege to the city itself before they could begin on Sullivan's home.

  It soon became clear to Matilyn that it was not only battle strategies and supply issues she'd have to deal with. She was the commanding officer in the camp but there were niceties she was forced to observe with the lieutenants below her. Some she could see warming up to her leadership--others would take convincing.

  She remembered telling Eldrin she was no good at diplomacy. To her surprise, it was Stini that gave her the most problems; since she'd issued the ban on liquor, he'd challenged everything she'd said. He never came out and told her she was unfit or too unexperienced but the insinuation was crystal clear and i
mpossible to ignore.

  By the time the meeting was over and the orders had been given, Matilyn felt as tired as she had when she'd finished her first day of training with Jones.

  "It will get easier," Cori told her, walking back with her towards the meal tents. The meeting had taken up most of the day.

  Matilyn smiled at Cori, appreciating the soldier who'd come from Lamonte more than ever. "I hope so."

  When Janice saw the expression on Sean's face, she thought her heart might explode. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before, at least on him. He was warring with something, arguing with himself on some private matter. They'd grown close over the last year, but sometimes he was still a mystery to her.

  She made her way to where he was, "Can I join you?"

  Sean nodded.

  Janice took a seat beside him, drawing her knees up to her chest, "Sean," she said, "What's wrong? I've never seen you so..." she made a gesture with her hand to elaborate.

  For a moment, Sean didn't speak. Then he cleared his throat, "Janice, where's the letter?"

  "What letter?" Janice asked, but she already knew. Somehow, he did too. Her heart felt as though it were hammering out of her chest.

  He took another letter, a letter with beautiful handwriting, out of his vest. He read it again, silently, then looked over at Janice. There was a wild sort of desperation in his eyes, "I've known for a long time," he said, "Just not the specifics."

  "I don't have it anymore," Janice said in a small voice, "I tore it up and I got rid of it. Sean, I'm so sorry."

  Sean folded the letter in his hands once, then unfolded it again, "I received another letter today," he said, "I didn't know who it could be from. My family all died. You helped me deal with that. But Janice, when I was younger, I did something foolish. I was in love with this girl, see?"

  Erin, thought Janice. He'd been in love with the beautiful, blonde Erin.

  "She never returned a single glance of mine," Sean admitted. "Not a single one. I was too young to understand a lot of things back then. Things like social status, poverty levels, and a dozen other things that made the world go round. So I was sad, and bitter, and one day I took refuge in the arms of a girl who was also sad and bitter. Erin."

  Janice glanced at the newest letter.

  "We didn't see each other again after that," Sean said, "It was too awkward. What we had lasted a single evening, that's all. Then the city was destroyed."

  Janice nodded.

  Sean reached over and took her hand, "Janice," he said, "I have a daughter."

  Janice's eyes widened, "What?"

  Then Sean smiled and the smile seemed to light up his face. It was the sort of smile that Janice wished he had all the time. He repeated, "I have a daughter. I'm a father."

  Janice didn't know what to say. Then she realized what that meant, "Oh, Sean. I'm so sorry. I should have given you the letter when she first give it to me. I don't know why I kept it to myself. I was wrong."

  Sean shook his head, "It doesn't matter," he said, "I don't care."

  Janice felt a wave of relief wash over her and she managed to smile, "You're a father," she whispered, "Are you happy?"

  "Yes," Sean said. Then he kissed her, and it was ever so sweet.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Darker Purpose

  "I'VE DONE IT," KENNETH SAID TO HIS wife. She sat in their dining room, enjoying a mid-morning meal of eggs, toast and freshly squeezed orange juice. The cooks had come with the estate and they were more than willing to prepare her an elaborate feast for every meal and snack. Sometimes, though, Penny enjoyed simplicity.

  "What have you done?" Penny asked. She took a sip of her juice, wiped her mouth with a napkin and rose in proper greeting. Sometimes she reminded herself so forcibly of her mother that she wanted to cry.

  Kenneth approached, his eyes dancing with merriment. "I've joined the city patrol," he told her, "I'm officially one of Lamonte's men."

  Penny tried to feel cheered for the news. She knew that Kenneth had been waiting for recruitment to open so he could be one of the first to sign up. The city patrol was a new program in Valishna. It allowed citizens to become more involved with the Lamonte soldiers. It was supposed to be some common ground.

  "And the others?" Penny asked, thinking of the men and women who regularly filed in and out of her home. Sirn Moss, the Remmus couple, Kevin Bishop, Joanna Whitetree... and so many more. They were full of ambition, Penny couldn't deny that. She was polite to all of them. She served tea and biscuits and tried to make them feel comfortable.

  "Ryan signed up with me," Kenneth told her, "And Sirn too. Kevin couldn't come. Neither could Catelyn Remmus or Joanna. They're going to sign up later. We don't want to all be associated together. It might be suspicious."

  Penny nodded.

  Kenneth beamed and then hugged her tightly. When he let her go, he frowned at her expression. "You don't seem very happy about the news," he said. He folded his arms.

  "I'm happy," Penny said. When Kenneth just stared at her, she shrugged a shoulder in defense. "It's just weird," she muttered, "It's hard to imagine you and your friends as part of them."

  "I'm not one of them," Kenneth said, "Don't say that. You know why we're doing this. You were there when we discussed it. This will give us information the rest of the city isn't privy to. It'll make us look good, too. Throw off suspicion. We can even keep an eye on the city. We can help more."

  "Right," Penny said, "and I get that. I understand why you're doing it. It doesn't make it an easier, though."

  Kenneth frowned. It was a look so full of disappointment that Penny actually had to take a step back, "You could be part of it," he told her. He'd said this numerous times already. "If you were part of it, you'd understand."

  "No," she said. She looked down at her black dress. She'd worn nothing but the dark colors of mourning since she'd heard of Eldrin's death. It bothered the people of the city but she'd refused to change out of it. Even when she was in the Chapel, healing, she wore black.

  "No," she repeated, "I'm not going to partake in this. If I wanted to risk my life, I would have joined the Guard. I have told you my thoughts on the matter. We should wait the war out. When Arinford wins, they will take Valishna back. We don't have to risk our lives that way."

  Kenneth sighed. "And what if we lose the war, Pen? Have you considered that? You know our fathers both believe that Lamonte will succeed. Most of the city believes that. For all we know, the entire kingdom believes that. Lamonte has the upper hand right now."

  "Then what good will a resistance do?" Penny demanded. It was not a new argument. "What good will it do to throw our lives away if Lamonte wins? You think they're just going to let Valishna remain independent once Sullivan has a hold here?"

  "So what do you think we should do?" Kenneth asked in a cool tone, "What are your suggestions, Lady Arris? Please, tell me."

  Penny could hear the frustration in his voice. She knew he'd been hoping for her to be impressed at the idea of a secret resistance, for her to hop on board and become part of it, but she couldn't. She just couldn't. She saw what the soldiers did to people who spoke out or stood up to them.

  "I don't know," she finally admitted.

  Kenneth sighed, "Will you at least be sitting in our dinner tonight? They'd like to see you there. Ryan and Joanna especially."

  "Joanna doesn't want to see me there," Penny said with a derisive snort.

  From the moment Penny and Joanna had met there had been an immediate spark of dislike. Penny hadn't been sure what it was from at first, but then she realized it was Joanna. She was the woman Kenneth had been in love with. She should be the Lady Arris.

  It was more than that too, though. Joanna also thought Penny a spoiled rich girl, and a coward to boot. She made no attempt to hide her feelings on that matter.

  "She does," Kenneth said, surprised by Penny's words, "She told me specifically to make sure you were there at dinner tonight."

  "Ah," Penny said. She rolled
her eyes. "She wants to make sure I have no reason to turn against your little grouping. If I go to your meetings and eat my meals alongside you, I'll be one of you. Then if I decide to turn against you, I'll be guilty too. She's a smart one, your Joanna."

  Kenneth sighed again, "She's not my Joanna, Pen. Do you have to think so badly of her? She just wants an opportunity to try and get you to join with us. She thinks you could be a real help."

  Penny stared at him, "How can I be that much help? What could I provide?"

  "You are intelligent," Kenneth said, "You see things, Pen, and you hear things too. I'm sure you do, when you're healing. People in the city trust you, too. You could talk to them for us. Your voice would mean a lot in the community."

  "No," Penny said flatly. She glanced at her half-eaten food and shook her head. "No."

  Kenneth gave a sigh of consent, "As you wish," he said, "Tonight, though? Will you just stay for dinner tonight?"

  "Tonight," Penny said with an air of finality, "I will be dining with my brother."

  Will felt a cold bucket of water splash against him. He opened his eyes, struggling to see in the dim light of his cell. His entire face and chest were soaking wet. For a moment, he felt panicked. It nearly consumed him.

  He forced himself to calm down, realizing he'd only been dreaming about--well, he'd been dreaming about something when the water had hit him.

  "Enjoy your bath, Princeling," a voice called out. It was thick and accented; one of Sullivan's soldiers.

  He shivered, putting both arms around his waist. The cell was unheated and the water had been cold. The guards had left him alone for the most part. He wasn't questioned, or tortured. There hadn't even been an attempt at communication. It had surprised him.

  Now, though, he could only focus on the water that soaked him on a regular basis. Every day, it went the same. He thought he could live with never being cold again.

  He was presented with food--little and stale that it was--and his water flasks were kept full. Will knew he shouldn't complain. He knew he was lucky to be alive. Still, it bothered him. Still, he shivered.