Revolution (Cartharia Book 2)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  CONTENTS

  Title

  One - A Requiem and Such Rest

  Two - Men's Minds are Wild

  Three - Then Sit Still, my Soul

  Four - The Safety and Health of this Whole State

  Five - My Daughter and Your Honor

  Six - I Cannot Dream Of

  Seven - Makes Marriage Vows

  Eight - Fortune, Death, and Danger Dare

  Nine - So Run, the World Away

  Ten - Most Fond and Winnowed Opinion

  Eleven - He Hath Much Land and Fertile

  Twelve - Fight For a Plot

  Thirteen - We'll Feast Together

  Fourteen - For His Weapon

  Fifteen - Treason in my Breast

  Sixteen - With This Affair Along

  Seventeen - Us Drunks

  Eighteen - That So His Sickness

  Nineteen - Heart of My Mystery

  Twenty - Savior's Birth is Celebrated

  Twenty-One - Fair And War like Form

  Twenty-Two - Those That Are Married Already

  Twenty-Three - Upon the Talk

  Twenty-Four - And of the Truth Herein

  Twenty-Five - Thou Comest in Such a Questionable State

  Twenty-Six - The More Merit is in Your Bounty

  Twenty-Seven - It is Our Trick

  Twenty-Eight - Beaten Way of Friendship

  Twenty-Nine - A Second TIme I Kill

  Thirty - And By my Advice

  Thirty-One - Tremble at this Chance

  Thirty-Two - And Now, Good Friends

  Thirty-Three - With Golden Fire, Why?

  Thirty-Four - Let them Be Well Used

  Thirty-Five - More in Sorrow than in Anger

  Thirty-Six - It is Indifferent Cold

  Thirty-Seven - With Traitorous Gifts

  Thirty-Eight - Dear Majesty, Your Queen

  Thirty-Nine - Run Barefoot Up and Down

  Forty - Who Knows Save Heaven

  Forty-One - Such a Questionable Shape

  Forty-Two - Burn out the Sense

  Forty-Three - Poison Temper'd by Himself

  Forty-Four - That Treason Can But Peep

  Forty-Five - Therefore Prepare Thyself

  Forty-Six - Soil Our Addition

  Forty-Seven - I Have Bad Dreams

  Forty-Eight - Tell the Secrets of my Prison-House

  Forty-Nine - And His Commission To Employ Those Soldiers

  Fifty - Chance Escape

  Fifty-One - Revenge His Foul and Most Unnatural Murder

  Fifty-Two - You Are Come Home

  Fifty-Three - That Have the Power

  Fifty-Four - The Stars are Fire

  Fifty-Five - Where Will Thou Lead Me

  Fifty-Six - Why I Will Fight with Him Upon this Theme

  About the Author

  ONE

  A Requiem and Such Rest

  "LET ME INTRODUCE YOU TO THE MEN and women you'll be serving alongside of," Richard Sullivan offered out a warm, fatherly smile. Despite his greying hair and lined, weathered face, he was still an intimidating man that drew respect from the line of waiting soldiers.

  Sullivan walked along the line now, stopping at each man for woman to give an introduction. Most of the names were unfamiliar. They were his lieutenants or commanders who had been either stationed across the sea, or had been responsible for guarding his castle from attacks.

  At one point, Sullivan paused in the line, looking at a space between a tall woman named Marie Kris, and a shorter man simply called Jor. He gave a heavy sigh. "If circumstances were different, you would have met Battle-Master Keln," he said, "the officer in charge of these good men and women, but he was slain a fortnight ago in battle."

  He shook his head and continued the walk. It was clear from the way he knew the name, rank, and previous deployment of every officer in the line that he had great respect for those who served in his military. He spoke of them the same way a father would of his children.

  It seemed to go on forever. There were well over thirty officers who'd come for the introduction. It wasn't until the very end of the line that one of names struck a familiar chord.

  Matilyn Malevus strode down the line, her jaw clenched. With her dark hair, and cool complexion, she'd always had a serious look about herself but at the moment, she seemed more stringent than ever.

  "Samuel Frien," she repeated, meeting the eyes of the commander Sullivan had just introduced.

  Samuel was a handsome man, tall and strong. He flashed two rows of white, beautiful teeth at her. "Commander Malevus. How long has it been?"

  The first time they met was as commanders on opposing ends of the battlefield. They had sought each other out. They'd talked first, and then they'd fought. Both of them were skilled swordsman and the fight had been long and exhausting.

  Matilyn hadn't forgotten that Samuel had come out victorious. He'd had her on the ground, sword to her throat, when one of her men -- her officer boy -- interrupted them. Samuel had fled the scene. She remembered everything about that night; the trickle of blood that made its way down to the hollow of her neck, the anger, the fear, and the hatred she'd had for Samuel.

  However, he'd also been the one to tell her of Lamonte's true nature and introduce her to King Sullivan. She didn't know how she was supposed to feel about him now. A large part of her would always hate him for what he'd done to her officer boy, but she also owed him her life.

  "Months," she said shortly.

  "Surely it's been longer?" Samuel asked. He leaned back on his heels thoughtfully, "A year perhaps?"

  Matilyn glared at him. Samuel knew exactly how long it had been. She'd been in Sullivan's castle for just over six months, learning and training. He had introduced her to many civilians, often taking her to the city to perform healings for the less fortunate, Despite this, she'd been kept away from his soldiers.

  At first, Matilyn had been confused on why Sullivan kept her in the city when she so desperately wanted to fight for him. Then she'd realized: he wasn't completely sure of her loyalty yet. He didn't know if she would betray him when it came time to fight her old countrymen.

  She didn't blame him for this. It was her own foolish pride and stubborn streak that had kept her fighting against Lamonte for so long. Even when the evidence to support him was blatant, she had refused to open her eyes.

  Now, though, she understood him.

  For the last half year, she'd done her best to prove herself to Sullivan, and she finally had. It was the reason he'd consented to allow her back with the military, fighting for unity and peace. Of course, that meant she'd be working with men like Samuel.

  "Something like that," she said in a calm voice, "How have you been, Commander?"

  Samuel smiled again. It was the same smile he'd given her on the battlefield. The smile only reminded her of Rory, the boy who'd died to save her. She was supposed to protect him, but it had been his body on the ground, bleeding out. She had the sudden urge to draw her sword and spill Samuel's blood out on the pristine castle floor.

  "Well enough," Samuel said, "Our Good King has been keeping me busy."

  Matilyn struggled with the raging war within her. She instinctively moved her hand to rest on the pommel of her sword before realizing it was no longer there. She hadn't been armed in six months. She cursed herself for forgetting.

  "And what is that you've kept yourself busy with these last few months?" Samuel asked.

  Matilyn unglued her tongue from the roof of her mouth and said, "I've been busy with the Good King's works as well."

  "Not in battle, though?" Samuel asked. "I haven't seen you on the field."

  Matilyn knew he was only asking to goad her. He was still smiling.
"No," she told him, "I haven't been on the battlefield. I've been busy here, within the capital."

  "I see," Samuel said.

  Matilyn couldn't look at him any longer. She turned her back to him to see Sullivan. He'd been watching this exchange with a half-amused, half-curious expression, "Thank you for introducing me to your men, Your Majesty."

  Sullivan merely nodded to her. He looked over the faces of all the men and women present, "I thought tonight we would have a celebration dinner," he told them, "in memory of Battle-Master Keln, an honorable man that will be sorely missed, and in celebration of Commander Malevus joining our ranks."

  He paused to see if anyone would speak. None dared interrupt him.

  "I trust you will all be on your most honorable behavior tonight," he said.

  There was a reprimand in his voice that caused Matilyn to frown. She thought of what she knew of the Lamonte military. From the many times she'd seen them in combat, she'd recognized that they were not the most cultured men and women.

  The warning was clear; Sullivan was telling them to be good, to behave, and not to make themselves look like savages.

  Matilyn turned to smirk at Samuel. She had a vantage point in this particular situation. She wasn't from Lamonte.

  Matilyn took her seat at the long banquet table. It was her first time wearing the Lamonte officer uniform and she couldn't help but to feel out of place in the midst of those who had been serving the Kingdom of Lamonte for far longer than her.

  At her right was a woman she'd met that morning. She had long, blonde hair and an easy smile but Matilyn couldn't recall her name. On her left was Samuel. Matilyn was certain the seating was not a coincidence.

  The banquet hall of the castle was large and luxurious; there were several tables that had been set up for the occasion, full of either officers or otherwise important men and women from the city. There were hundreds of dishes prepared by the cooks, and nearly as many different beers, wines and liquors.

  Matilyn felt eyes fall upon her over and over as the evening wore on. She was at least half the reason for the festivities; she would finally take her place in the Lamonte military. She didn't understand the necessity of the banquet to celebrate though – it was a simple promotion. Lamonte had six battle-masters to Arinford's three, and each of them led at least a half-dozen commanders.

  On the other hand, Sullivan seemed to truly care for her place amongst his men. They'd become close over the last few months as he'd taken her into confidence. She'd been given the chance to get to know him; she knew his dreams, his hopes, and his ambitions.

  "And where again did you say you trained?" Samuel asked Matilyn suddenly, pulling her back into the conversation she'd been neglecting.

  "Me?" Matilyn repeated. She felt her cheeks redden. She felt her dislike for the fellow commander rise. "I trained in Arinford."

  Samuel smiled again, widely, "Ah, that's right. You were part of the Arinford troops, right? You were a Captain there too, were you not?"

  "Commander."

  The blonde woman raised both eyebrows at Matilyn, "With the Arinford Guard?"

  Matilyn stared at the woman, willing herself to remember her name. She was a Lieutenant – one of Samuel's men. Since she'd joined the guard two years before, she found a strong dislike for the pleasantries and politics among the officers in a military.

  She'd hoped that the Lamonte army would be different, but clearly she was wrong. "Of course," she told the woman, "I was a citizen of Arinford until the Good King showed me my folly. He opened my eyes to what I'd been missing, the truth for which I craved."

  "Do you remember the first time," Samuel said, "when I tried to convince you? You were so adamant, Matilyn. Of course, that changed when I finally introduced you to our Good King. I wonder how his words made such a difference."

  Matilyn understood Samuel's dislike with a sudden rush of comprehension. He didn't believe her. She stared at him, incredulous. She also knew that whatever she said, Samuel would ignore. He didn't want to trust her.

  The blonde officer was waiting though, so Matilyn just smiled, "Our Good King has a way with words that we all should try to emulate. He is passionate, to say the least, and you can't ignore such passion. He opened my eyes where your rehearsed lines could not, Samuel. Surely you don't begrudge him his superiority over us all?"

  Matilyn raised the wine to her lips and took a sip.

  Samuel's eyes narrowed, just barely, but enough that Matilyn took notice. She was making an enemy with him and she knew it.

  She couldn't forgive him though. She knew what Sullivan would say if he knew how she felt about the other officer. He'd tell her that Samuel had only been doing his job, and that he too grieved for every life lost. They had a responsibility to stop the Arinford soldiers. The kid had been an Arinford soldier.

  In her rational mind, Matilyn knew this. She even understood it. It didn't mean she liked it, though. She remembered the way Samuel had looked when he stood over her, sword at her throat. She remembered the way it had felt, and the way it sometimes still haunted her late at night when she should be sleeping.

  She could never forgive him.

  "What was it like in Arinford?" the blonde woman asked before Samuel could speak.

  Matilyn looked over at her, surprised. She was the first person to ask about Arinford. "It wasn't much different than Lamonte in terms of weather," she said thoughtfully, "Though we didn't have freak storms there. It's a spring state for the most part – there were a few winter ones in the northern mountains, of course."

  The blonde frowned, "We don't have freak storms here either."

  It was Matilyn that raised her eyebrows this time. "A year ago, Lamonte had nearly nine weeks of snow in one of your spring states."

  The blonde shifted uncomfortably, "I suppose. It was a rarity though, a phenomenon. We don't know why it happened. I know of the weather though; what were the cities like? Where did you live?"

  "Valishna," Matilyn said. She saw the woman wince. The surprise attack on Valishna was the first by Lamonte against her former homeland. The city and all of its citizens had been all but wiped out. A handful of survivors had made it to the neighboring towns. It had been this attack that had ignited the war.

  "Valishna was such a lively place," Matilyn said, "Arinford's main port; a tourist attraction in itself. If my history is correct, it was the first metropolis built in Arinford."

  She thought back, recalling the parades that would happen once a year, when the city would celebrate the anniversary of its groundbreaking. The King would come with his family and that would be cause for even more celebrations.

  "There were little shops everywhere," Matilyn said. She remembered the fishermen with their daily catches and the bakers with their fresh bread. Her mother had worked for the Sweeton bakery before her death. The downtown market was a boisterous, busy place and you couldn't walk down the street without purchasing something; whether it was a candy or a small trinket.

  "Most of the shopkeepers weren't wealthy," she explained, "But they were well enough off. There weren't a lot of truly poor people in Valishna. There was more than enough work to do."

  Matilyn shook her head, reminiscing, "There were a lot of Priests too. I was one of them then. We studied and trained for eight years before working for the Chapel. It was a long time; sometimes it felt like too long, especially for teenagers.

  "We learned how to heal and heal well within the first year but there were also other things to practice. Everyone was trained as a battle-medic and nurse in the event manipulation was not effective. Mostly though, we were taught to serve the community, whether to heal injuries or advise their day-to-day problems. It was important to Father Ashbury that we were able to protect our fellow citizens in every way."

  Matilyn paused and then shook her head, "Valishna was a happy place. People there were happy. I really believe that."

  "And what about now?" Sullivan's voice interrupted her reminiscing and Matilyn realized that the sec
tion of table they were seated at had gone quiet. Several of the other men and women had leaned in to listen to her.

  She looked at the King, her cheeks red. He was watching her with a neutral expression, but his eyes were warm and inviting. He wanted her to speak.

  Matilyn cleared her throat. She forced herself not to look over at Samuel while she gathered her thoughts. "Now?"

  "What do you think of Valishna now?" Sullivan asked, "Now that you've lived within our Kingdom, Commander Malevus?"

  Matilyn took a moment to consider her reply. She thought about what she'd learned since joining Lamonte's military, since becoming close to the King. "I think Valishna was a good example of what is wrong with this world."

  She looked down at the expectant faces and saw some confusion. It pained her deeply to know that these men and women still did not fully understand his vision. These men and women who sat in his court and ate his food.

  "Valishna had so much," she told them, "I remember it perfectly. When I close my eyes, I can still see the streets, and the people that walked them. We had few beggars, and our children never went hungry."

  "Our success came from men that had been born noble, raised since birth to make their businesses a success. They had the knowledge and the power to form and rule our city, making it a prosperous, wealthy port. Valishna had the advantage of high-born men and women, and location."

  Matilyn shook her head, and let out a low sigh. Everything was clear now. "They – we – could have used it to help others. We saw how the rest of Cartharia suffered. We should have cared about the poverty and need in the world and given back. Yet, instead, we wasted our profits and luxuries on ourselves. It was greed that motivated us. It was greed that motivated all of Valishna.

  "When we heard of children in Lamonte crying themselves to sleep, stomachs growling for food, did we offer our coin and surplus?" Matilyn swept her eyes over the room.

  "No," she said. "No. We kept our gold and we kept our silver and we grew wealthier until we couldn't even dream about spending all profits we'd made. Valishna was a selfish, greedy city. It demonstrated the kind of behavior Lamonte wishes would change."

  She looked over at Sullivan, her eyes almost moist with emotion, "The Good King dreams of a world where one city will not be above the rest, where one city will not be prosperous and joyous while others are left to starve and rot.