The Warriors of Valishna (Cartharia Book 1)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  They pushed forward to the gate. Fire manipulators focused on the large, wooden doors in an attempt to bring them down.

  At least fifty of the defenders had already fallen; Matilyn's troops had suffered at least five times the loss. She tried to drown out the distractions and focus. It wasn't easy.

  "This door's not coming down!" Sean shouted to her, "We don't have enough firepower!"

  "Get them in closer and have them focus on a singular point," Matilyn instructed. She shielded her eyes and looked around.

  Sean turned and passed along the orders to several captains, who acknowledged him with a quick nod and began to shepherd their manipulators into a closer group near Matilyn.

  "Sean," she called out, "how many wind manipulators do we have?"

  "Fifty or so? They've been trying to deflect as many arrows from hitting us as they can," Sean replied, "Serin's leading them."

  Matilyn pointed to the far right of the ramparts, "Have them focus together on that end. Let's see if we can knock some of them off the edge."

  Sean nodded and sought out Serin, who was with the other wind manipulators.

  Matilyn crouched behind the high shields that protected her, making her way over to Janice.

  Originally, she'd ordered Janice to stay behind for this attack, but the woman had been insistent that her squadron be allowed to join the charges that were going. Matilyn didn't regret the decision--Janice was a better officer than Matilyn could ever imagine. She was considering making her a lieutenant.

  But first they'd have to get through the current battle. "Janice," she said when she reached her, "I need you to move our archers to the left. We're going to be hitting the right side, and I need you and your men to draw the focus."

  Janice nodded and moved quickly, passing along the orders to the archers to move. They continued firing as they moved the hundred feet to the left. Matilyn was pleased to see the defenders above shifting their focus to them.

  From the corner of her eye, she could see a cluster of wind spiraling up the wall of the right side of the ramparts.

  Matilyn prayed to the gods that it would work.

  As soon as the wind reached the top of the rampart, five men flew off, thirty feet away from the wall. They hit the ground one after another, each one making a loud thud. Even in the commotion, it was still say to hear the sounds of bones breaking as lives were crushed out. Some lived, but it wasn't pretty.

  The cluster moved slowly leftwards, picking off a few more defenders before they could figure out what was happening.

  Some of the defenders had retreated, but many were too intent on killing Matilyn's archers to move away. Men flew from the top of the ramparts, falling closer and closer on top of Arinford troops.

  As the cluster moved closer to the center, guards in heavy armor came forward, crossbows in hand, firing down a barrage of arrows. The winds enveloped them, but they were not thrown off.

  Matilyn saw the men standing above through the wind and knew she needed to come up with a better plan. She didn't like it but she understood the necessity--she'd have to use fire manipulation. She gave commands to several of the captains protecting her, and they in turn, gave commands to the manipulators at the gate.

  She looked around and spotted Sean in the distance. He was also panicking about the armored guards. His face was white and he was clutching his amulet tight in one hand. She ran to him as fast as she could. About halfway there, a lone arrow flew by her ear, and the whoosh caught her off-guard.

  She ducked behind soldiers who had their shields raised and made her way towards Sean.

  "I need you to have the wind manipulators make a funnel directly above the gate," Matilyn said, trying to catch her breath.

  "I don't think that's going to knock them off," Sean said, "Their armor is just too heavy."

  "That's not what I'm going after," Matilyn said, "Just have them create and hold the funnel."

  The manipulators began to contort the winds, following the orders.

  "Wait for it," she said.

  Sean looked momentarily confused, but his eyes widened when he saw the fire manipulators begin shooting flames into the funnel. The inferno climbed higher and higher, faster and faster, and soon a large fireball engulfed the top of the ramparts.

  For a few seconds, the guards seemed unaffected by the firestorm. Matilyn was worried their armor provided too much protection for this plan to work, or the the protectors were somehow able to keep them from harm. It was only after that moment of doubt that she noticed several of the guards' armor turning a cherry red.

  The wind manipulators didn't have to throw them off the ramparts. Many of the guards handled that themselves.

  Men were shouting from atop the ramparts. Wishing a minute, they had vacated, to the cheers of the soldiers on the ground.

  "Let's get this gate down," Matilyn ordered as loudly as she could. Her voice was lost in the commotion but the order was carried around the thousands of soldiers still left alive.

  Sean led the wind manipulators to the front to work alongside the fire manipulators. They hurled their magic at the broad doors, but even with the addition of wind, it did not have much of an affect.

  This time it was Sean who had the idea. "Matilyn," he said, "I think we could get one of those carts from the city and use it force our way into the castle."

  Sean's plan was to take a cart and load it with as many heavy things from the houses below to use as a ram against the doors. Matilyn agreed to the plan immediately.

  A hundred soldiers scattered back into the city. A solid perimeter was established, protecting her troops, as strong men carried dead bodies to the side of the streets and priests and medics tended to the wounded. Matilyn hurried to help.

  "I can't feel my legs," an older man said.

  "Just hold still, let me see what I can do," Matilyn said. She saw that both of his legs were badly mangled. She could see fragments of bone protruding from his blood-soaked armor. She closed her eyes as she reached for her Chakran and then pushed the energy into the man's legs. He screamed out in pan as the bones began to slowly realign themselves. The muscles, tendons, and ligaments followed suit.

  By the time she'd completed the repair, the man looked nauseated and ready to pass out. Matilyn knew its as a waste of energy but she called on her Chakran once more to relieve some of the pain. The man was silent for a moment, relishing the deadening of nerves and then gave her a quick thanks.

  Several minutes later, a trove of iron pans, anvils, and even wood stoves made their way to Sullivan's gates. Other soldiers returned with two carts, for the most part emptied of their rotting produce.

  The carts were strapped together thirty feet away from the gate and filled with as much metal as they could contain. Each weighed thousands of pounds. Once the cargo was secure Matilyn gave the order and dozens of men began to push the carts. They barely moved.

  Matilyn surveyed the place where her troops stood, unable to enter the castle. She noticed wooden beams lining the edge between cobblestone and gardens at the base of the walls. She had several men pick up two of those long beams and fit them into the carts.

  Nearly a hundred men now pushed the carts forward, gaining momentum in the process. By the time the carts crashed into the doors. They were moving at a slow jog. With a loud series of snaps the doors to the castle fell as the carts broke and scattered their contents at the impact.

  As the dust cleared, Matilyn peered beyond the doors, seeing a courtyard of Lamonte soldiers.

  The men inside stood tall, their shields and weapons drawn, waiting for the attack. Matilyn knew they wouldn't be lured out. She knew they would wait inside until they came through the gate; they held the advantage this way. There was nothing she could do prevent this--her men were going to die.

  She sent her brigadiers forward over the rubble and into the inner courtyard. They were met with a violent barrage of arrows, spears, and rocks. Behind the brigadiers, archers and manipulators, captains and lieutena
nts flooded the bloodied stone grounds.

  Matilyn looked up from the center, trying to find where the protectors were hiding. At least a dozen lined the rooftops of the various buildings lining the street. Other manipulators, striking down at anyone who tried to get near, guarded them.

  "They're on the roofs," Matilyn yelled out. She looked round for Janice.

  Archers spun in every direction and arrows flew, most being cast aside by the enemy manipulators. Matilyn gathered several soldiers and headed for a row of three buildings.

  She sent several in the first and second buildings and with a group of three, went to take the third. As they opened the door, several armed Lamonte soldiers piled out, swords drawn, ready to strike the commander and her men.

  Matilyn struck first. With one swift blow, she decapitated the first soldier who'd lurched at her. She gingerly stepped away from the head that landed near her boots.

  Another followed shortly behind him, only to be thwarted by one of her men. Three more came this time with raised swords, charging at Matilyn. She parried one of the strikes, cringing at the way the metal screeched when the sword hit her shield and quickly shoved him off her to avoid the other two. He men engaged them, peeling them away from their focus.

  From behind, Matilyn heard growing shouts. Two more Lamonte soldiers, with weapons drawn, charged at Matilyn. She ducked as they lunged and crashed into the side of the building. In one fluid motion, she spun her blade around and slammed into one of the men's chest.

  The second man picked up his sword and pointed it at Matilyn, thrusting himself froward. She shoved her shield forward to block, the sword burying itself deep into the wood. She pulled back with all of her strength and spun the shield around by it's handled, crashing the hilt of the sword into the soldier's head.

  While he was disoriented, Matilyn reached into her boot, grabbed her dagger, and sliced his neck from side to side. He fell limp on the ground. Her men had managed to kill the others but it wasn't without casualties. She could see two of her men on the ground.

  "You are quite a fighter," a voice called out from behind her.

  Matilyn and her lone remaining fighter turned around to see who had spoken the words. It was a young man, smiling, exposing his bright white teeth. He had a longsword sheathed at his side and no protection other than a simple leather tunic.

  "You must be Commander Malevus," he deduced, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Captain Frien--Rekkart Frien."

  Throwing her dagger and impaled shield to the ground, she reached for her sword, pulling it from the lifeless man on the ground.

  If Rekkart said more, she didn't hear him. She was already running forward, another of her men at her side. An arrow flew past her, striking him in the back before they reached Rekkart. He immediately collapsed.

  She couldn't spare any time to look at him, already knowing he couldn't have survived. She raised her sword at Rekkart. As she swung downwards, he pulled his broadsword from it's scabbard, a ring echoing before steel met steel.

  "Arinford pig," Rekkart sneered as he pushed her backwards.

  He was a strong man, and had easily thrown Matilyn back teen feet. She came again, this time with her sword drawn across her chest, ready to strike his flank. Again, Rekkart clashed his sword into hers, pushing her backward.

  "Selfish and greedy," he taunted.

  She readied her sword again, this time feigning another slice and turning to a jab. She was only a few inches away from his chest before he deflected the stab with a quick flick of his sword. Three more strikes were easily parried. Matilyn had become more and more angry by his seeming lack of effort. She stepped back and guarded, so he could catch her breath.

  "Is that it?" Rekkart asked, "Surely the Commander has more ability than you've displayed."

  "Stop playing games and fight me," Matilyn demanded.

  "I suppose you are more of a fighter than a talker. Very well." Rekkart gripped his sword firmly with both hands. "Prepare yourself, Miss Malevus."

  With a growl, she lunged forward at him, her eyes darkening with rage. She came down and again he blocked her, but this after pushing her backwards, he followed with a large swing of his own. Matilyn ducked, a loud metal woos echoing over her head. She jabbed forward with her sword, hitting Rekkart in the leg.

  Without a sound and barely a limp, he jumped backwards. He drew his sword up in the air and came down. Matilyn was forced to block the attack with her sword, but the blow snapped her sword out of her hands and knocked her to the ground. He approached quickly with the point of his sword, pushing her backwards towards the building.

  Rekkart pulled his arm back, ready to thrust his sword into Matilyn.

  She thought of her mother then, and of Eldrin. If she was going to die today, she wanted to remember their faces, and remember them well. She smiled.

  Then she thought of Penny, in her long white robes, her flowing red hair, her secretive smiles, and the way her skin felt as they'd laid together on their last morning together. Penny was alive. She wouldn't be seeing her when this nightmare ended.

  Matilyn's smile faded. She din't want to die.

  Metal glanced against the stone ground as Rekkart's eyes widened. A lone arrow had pierced through the side of his skull. Matilyn looked to see where the arrow had come from. A grinning Janice met her eyes.

  Matilyn rose back to her feet, quickly brushing off the dust. She looked up to the roof of the building she'd been fighting in front of, seeing the protectors still above with his manipulators guarding him. She went inside.

  The small structure appeared to be some sort of leather workshop. The smell of fresh hides lingered in the air. She hurried up the stairs to the second floor. The storage area was full of crates and supplies.

  Large casks and stacks of dried hides created a much more pleasant aroma than the floor below. She made her way to the door.

  As quietly as she could, she attempted to push open the door leading to the exterior. It wasn't a strong door, but she realized they must have barricaded it. Not to be stopped, she looked around the room for something to help force the door down.

  She rummaged through the crates strewn across the floor with no luck, before checking the casks. They were filled with a liquid that smelled heavily of alcohol. Without hesitation, she pried several of the casks open, spilling their contents across the floor.

  Matilyn made her way back to the stairs before grabbing a lantern that hung from the wall. She threw it into the far corner by the casks where it shattered and engulfed the spilled alcohol as she sprinted to the bottom floor.

  A loud roar of air bellowed from above. Looking up the stairs she could see the intensity of the flame. As she exited the building, she could see flames coming out the windows of the second floor. Looking to the other rooftops, she couldn't see any other protectors.

  Janice had stopped firing for a moment to cast a confused look at Matilyn. She had already tried firing her arrows at the protector and manipulators on the roof of this building, but none of them were able to find their target. Matilyn motioned for her to wait.

  Within a minute, the walls on the roof began to ignite. The manipulators turned around. Janice let loose an arrow, striking one of the manipulators in the back. As he buckled, the other looked at him, and then back to the area Janice had shot from. Not to be distracted, further shots by Janice were unable to hit.

  The building creaked behind Matilyn; she knew it wouldn't survive much longer. She retreated back to the front square where the majority of the fighting had begun to die down. By the time she arrived, the workshop had collapsed.

  "The protectors are down!" Matilyn called out to any who could hear her. Over the next five minutes, the flesh manipulators ripped open the hearts and jugular veins of the enemy combatants.

  "Quick thinking with the fire," Sean said.

  "It's not time to celebrate yet," Matilyn reminded him.

  Sean nodded and gathered the spread-out soldiers back in so they could begi
n the assault on the keep.

  An impressive fortification, the keep rose a hundred feet into the air, made of large stone slabs. Another large wooden door stood between them and the inside. Matilyn had never seen a keep before; standing before one now had slightly intimidated her.

  She sent several of her men forward to try to break down the door. They spent several moments eyeing it, trying to find its weakness. One of them pushed against the door to see how heavily protected it was. It swung open.

  Matilyn didn't see anyone inside. She motioned for her men to start piling in. The grand foyer was several stories tall, and several hundred feet wide and even longer. Several large pillars ran from the floor to the ceiling. Matilyn's soldiers ran down each hall, and up a flight of stairs to the second floor. She stood in front of two large doors at the opposite side of the foyer. She was relieved when nobody was there to be found.

  "We did it," Sean said.

  "We did it," Matilyn repeated, "We took our first castle."

  THIRTY-ONE

  You Have so Lost a Father

  "COMMANDER?" RORY REMMUS APPROACHED MATILYN, STILL LOOKING as nervous as he had the first day he'd spoken to her. Matilyn offered a smile in return.

  "What is it, Rory?"

  "I have your mail," Rory told her, "You were out on a mission when it arrived so I kept it back so it'd be safe."

  "Thank you," Matilyn said. She held out a hand. Rory put two envelopes in it.

  "I have a question," Rory said.

  Matilyn lifted her eyebrows.

  Rory hesitated. He licked his lips, "Some officers," he said, "They take on officers' boys to help with their armor and weaponry. That sort of thing."

  "I know what an officers' boy is," Matilyn said. "Aren't you one? To Lieutenant Stini?"

  "No," Rory said, "I'm not. But I'd like to be. I got permission from Lieutenant Stini, ma'am, assuming you say yes. I'd like to be your officers boy."

  Matilyn leaned back, considering this for a moment, "I've made no attempt to hide how I feel about children fighting," she said.