The Warriors of Valishna (Cartharia Book 1)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  Matilyn didn't react. There was a moment of silence.

  "I was just asking what happened to you," Sean said, "I've been too busy holding the camp at bay to really find anything out. Everyone was worried you weren't going to pull through for a while. You lost a lot more blood than you should have, and then traveling on top of that..."

  Matilyn looked over at Janice, "Thank you."

  "Don't worry about it," Janice assured her. She put a hand on her shoulder. "You'd have done the same for any of us. Can you tell us what happened though?"

  Matilyn took a deep breath, "Lieutenant Cori and I, we went to make sure the area was clear so that we could lead the attack. We weren't paying enough attention and we were ambushed by their sentries. I didn't see what happened to Cori. They knocked me out."

  "When I woke up, I was tied to a pole. There was a Lamonte soldier there, questioning me. He kept asking what I was doing here; he seemed to be under the impression that we'd stopped attacking Lamonte and had retreated to defend Arinford."

  "I managed to kill one of them, but I couldn't get the second. He was about to kill me when Janice shot him. We went to find Cori but it was too late--"

  Janice interrupted, "She was already dead. We tried to bring her with us, but I couldn't. I wanted to Matilyn, I promise you, but you needed help and I couldn't bring both of you back together."

  "I understand," Matilyn said.

  Janice sighed, She turned away from Matilyn and filled up water flask. She offered it out, and Matilyn took it, drinking greedily.

  Sean ran a hand over his face, looking exhausted. It was a rare sight on him, "We're going to have to tell everyone. This isn't going to bode well for morale. At least we have some good news."

  Matilyn and Janice both stared at him.

  "If they think our troops have retreated, we'll have the element of surprise," Sean reasoned, "That's going to help our attack against Sullivan a lot. You killed them all?"

  "No," Janice said, "A small group escaped. We're going to go after them."

  "I'll go along," Sean said, "We want to make sure we kill every last one. We can't lose the element of surprise."

  They both looked at Matilyn.

  "I'm not going," Matilyn said, "But go ahead, Sean you can lead the troops."

  Sean nodded.

  "Matilyn, are you going to be alright?" Janice asked.

  Matilyn stared at the other woman for a long, drawn out moment. Then she shook her head, "I don't know."

  Sean led the attack with Janice at his side. They'd been fighting a lot more recently, but it didn't stop him from caring about her. They only fought about one thing anyway. They fought about his amulet.

  Sean still hadn't gotten rid of it. He'd been unable to tear himself away from it. Janice hated it, she wanted it gone, and so did he, to an extent. He also couldn't imagine life without it. Janice just didn't understand that.

  Today wasn't the day to fight about it though. Not with everything else going on. Cori's death was devastating. He'd grown close to the other officer, as had most of the camp. She'd won them over with her heavy accent and strong beliefs. He wished he'd been there, to help, instead of back in the camp with Stini.

  He couldn't let Janice go out again, not without him at her side. So they led the attack together.

  They'd stumbled across another group of Lamonte men, different than the ones they were after. It was larger than they were, and they fought with a reckless abandon. It was life or death.

  Sean didn't want to die. Even though he couldn't feel things for himself, even though he relied on the emotions of others, he didn't want to die. He just didn't.

  So he fought, and he fought hard. In the end, though, it wasn't enough. In the end, he was on the ground with the others, disarmed. There were six of them from his count. He'd seen Janice's face, and his heart had skipped a beat.

  "We could execute you," said the Lamonte officer in charge of the division. "It would be easy to do, but as a wise woman once said, the gods do not relish killing. Instead, we will grant you your lives. You will be taken back to the castle, where you will wait in the cells till you either renounce Arinford or your execution date approaches."

  As a bag was shoved over his head, Sean realized he didn't need his amulet to tell him what the others were feeling. He was terrified.

  Matilyn approached Samuel Frien by the riverside.

  "You found me," he said.

  "You planned it that way," Matilyn said, "Those men told me you were here."

  Samuel nodded, "Why are you here?"

  Matilyn ignored the question, "Tell me why I should fight for Lamonte."

  Samuel considered this for a moment, "You're the third youngest commander promoted in the last two centuries," he said, "Did you know that?"

  Matilyn didn't speak.

  "You were nobody when this war started and in less than two years, you've risen through the ranks, and achieved some great military defeats. I'm impressed."

  "I'm not trying to impress you," Matilyn said.

  "I know," Samuel said, "But I'm still impressed, whether you're looking for praise or not. I've always believed we should have the greatest respect for our enemies. I have respect for you, Matilyn."

  Matilyn shook her head, "Why should I fight for Lamonte?" she repeated.

  Samuel spread his hands, "Because you have so much potential," he told her, "You're an amazing woman, and you're being wasted on the wrong side of the war."

  "Sullivan murders people," Matilyn pointed out.

  "A lot of men are murderers. He strives only for peace," Samuel said din a low voice. "You have been deluded into thinking he's evil when in fact, he's nothing more than a man who wants to unite the world against the real problems that threaten our very existence."

  "I ought to kill you," Matilyn said.

  She didn't move though.

  Samuel shook his head, "You won't though. You can't. You and I both know you're not the sort of person who blindly follows."

  "You don't know anything about me," Matilyn said. She grabbed the hilt of her sword.

  "I know you only want to do the right thing," Samuel said softly, "I know the guilt from this war tears you up, makes it difficult for your to sleep at night, and when you do close your eyes, your met with nightmares. You are cursed to see things things because you know you're sending these men and women out to die for you. Without just cause.

  "I know you feel," he said taking a step closer to her, "Because I was once the same way. So was Richard Sullivan. Whenever the Black King would see a child that was hungry, he would feel guilt gnawing on him because he knew... he knew there were a million more children like him out there because of the selfish, privileged people who never give back.

  "When he would see someone sick with no way to afford the services of a Priest, he would think about those who have so much that they just waste, and he would grow angry. Then he grew angry at himself for allowing it to happen.

  "He knew he could save one. He knew he could save one hundred. However, he couldn't end the hunger, the wars, the widespread corruption. He could not give every child the home and medical attention they deserved. This is the problem with man. No matter what he did, it could never be enough.

  "You see him as a tyrant, a villain who wishes nothing more than power. Instead, think of him as a visionary, a leader who sees the good that's left in the world, and who only wants to cut away the disease and decay of our corrupted societies so that equality, the benevolence of mankind can shine through.

  "Look into my eyes," Samuel said, "and tell me you think he's a monster. Tell me you don't want to see this perfect world as well."

  Matilyn could feel her heart beating loudly in her chest. She let go of the hilt of her sword. Doubt welled up within her. She remembered Rory then, and everything she'd said to him, in the end, in the ash, and the blood.

  "Look into my eyes," Samuel said.

  Matilyn hesitated and then raised her eyes to meet his.

&
nbsp; "Do you understand yet?" Samuel asked.

  Matilyn wiped her face with the back of a hand. She thought of her life, and what she'd been through so far. She thought of Penny's family, and the rest of the privileged elite of Valishna. She understood why she hated them now. She understood why she'd always resented them.

  She understood why the Priesthood had never felt like enough. It hadn't been.

  "I knew," she said suddenly, looking at Samuel, "I knew the world wasn't right. I just didn't know what to do about it."

  Samuel extended a hand out to her, "Now you do. Come then, Commander Malevus. Let's go home."

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  About the Author

  Spencer Reaves McCoy's fiction has appeared in regional and national publications. A lover of the written word, she grew up reading all genres of book, from horror to science fiction.

  She lives at the footsteps of the mountains between Northern California and Nevada where she draws inspiration from lakes, trees and dark skies, alongside her family and ever-faithful german shepherd, Liz Lemon.

  If you liked this book, please take a minute to rate and review it. You can reach Spencer Reaves McCoy directly by sending an email to: spencer@clubspencer.com. She always takes the time to respond to any emails sent her way.

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