Revolution (Cartharia Book 2)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  Nobody spoke. That was something Catherine had taught them right away. When she was speaking, she demanded silence. It was a respect issue. She couldn't stand when someone interrupted her.

  "I have no idea how long I'll be gone," Catherine said, "But you can rest assured that I will return and when I do, I will be much stronger than I am now."

  "You serve me," she said, "because you know of my ambitions and you crave the power that you'll have when I've carried through with my plans for my father and his rule."

  "I admit," Catherine said, "This is a setback for us. It is not the end, though. I will continue my plans while in Terifille. What I need from all of you is unwavering support. I need to know that when I return, you will still be loyal to me. Will you?"

  Her gaze swept the gathered men and women. Several of them nodded.

  Catherine glared, "When I ask a question," she reminded them, "I deserve an appropriate answer. Once again, I ask, will you remain loyal to me and to my ambitions?"

  "Yes," came the united voice of the Left Hand.

  "Much better," Catherine said, "Now, I wish for all of you to continue your training while I am gone. I will do the same in Terifille. Soon, we will have more strength than the rest of Lamonte's guards combined."

  They'd begun training in all forms of manipulation the moment that Catherine had recruited them. She'd begun training as well. Father Greene, the head priest for Lamonte's court, had denied her lessons. At first she'd been angry. Then she'd realized what a blessing it had been for him to deny her formal education.

  She learned better on her own.

  "For now," Catherine said, "You are dismissed. I will see you all upon my return. Remember: never hesitate. Weakness comes from hesitation and I will not have anyone but the strongest within my Left Hand."

  She left them with this, her last command before her departure from the castle. Soon, she'd be leaving. She thought of this, and once again her anger rose like bile in her throat.

  Her father didn't understand. She wasn't meant to marry the prince of Terifille. There was one man for her, one man who held her heart in his hands. She was going to marry Prince William Parnell.

  Destiny commanded it.

  Penny made her fourth trip back to the market on her own. She'd started coming with Robert fairly often. She'd discovered it wasn't just the old ink shop that had been converted to a makeshift home: many of the abandoned stores played host to civilians who'd lost everything.

  Despite her original argument with Robert, Penny had continued to join him when he ventured into the market place. She felt good for the first time in months. She was helping people. She'd almost forgotten what that was like.

  "Hey! Hey, a pretty necklace for a pretty neck?" One of the men on the corner called out as Penny passed by on the opposite side of the road.

  "No thank you," Penny said. She was no longer afraid of the seedy merchants. She felt disgusted and a little sad for them.

  The man called out something else but Penny ignored him, venturing further into the abandoned metropolis. She glanced at the litter on the ground and sighed. Valishna had once been such a wholesome place.

  She'd walked three more blocks before someone else shouted out at her. "Miss! Miss, would you like some cheese?"

  This came from a young man on the corner. Penny did a double take. He wasn't a man. He was a boy, no older than twelve. He had a small cart loaded down with an assortment of cheeses. He looked dirty but had such a hopeful look in his eyes.

  Penny made her way to him.

  "You want to buy some cheese?" he asked, "I made it myself. It's goat cheese."

  Penny had never been a fan of cheese, but she was a fan of the boy and his attempts to make a living. She fished out several silver coins from her purse. "I'd like two slices, please," she said.

  The boy glanced at the coins, "I don't have change for that, miss."

  "I'm not asking for change," Penny said. She pressed the coins into his hands.

  The boy looked startled but he quickly pocketed the money and picked her up two slices of cheese.

  "Thank you," Penny said.

  "You're welcome," the boy said, "You'll want to eat that soon. It's really good."

  "I will," Penny assured him. She offered him a smile and then went on her way. She'd gotten another couple of blocks before yet another voice interrupted her.

  "You shouldn't have done that."

  She whipped around to see who was speaking to her. She'd assumed it was a soldier, but it was a blonde man with a full facial beard and a toned, muscular body. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn't decide what it was.

  "Excuse me?"

  "The coins," the man said, "You shouldn't have given him silver."

  "Why not?" Penny asked.

  "Because there's a good chance someone will slit his throat for it," the man said, "You don't want to tempt the kind of men that hang around this place."

  Penny frowned, glancing back down the street towards the boy. She hadn't thought of that. Still, she didn't like the reprimand, so she stared back at the man, her eyes narrowed.

  "Just saying," he said. "Hey, can I have one of those slices?"

  Penny stared at him.

  "I'm hungry," the man said.

  "Seriously?" Penny asked.

  "Yeah," he said. Without waiting for her answer, he leaned forward and stole the piece of cheese.

  Penny sighed. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

  The man flashed her a cheeky smile. "You do," he admitted. "And I know you. We go way back."

  Penny gave him an irritated look. "I don't recognize you."

  His smile faded, "You wouldn't," he said darkly, "but that's the whole point, isn't it?"

  "Who the hell are you?" Penny demanded, her irritation spiking.

  "Well, I've gone by the name Craig Dalton for a bit now," he said, "I guess that'd be my name."

  "You guess?" Penny asked.

  Craig leaned closer, "It's not my real name," he drawled out. Then he took a bite of cheese.

  Penny's irritation was quickly changing to anger. She didn't like being messed with, and she had a feeling that Craig wasn't planning on stopping any time soon. "Whatever," she said. She turned away and continued walking.

  Craig kept pace with her. "You know, it's rude to walk away when you're having a conversation."

  "Is it?" Penny said, her voice dry.

  "Yes," Craig answered. He didn't seem to mind her attitude though and continued to walk at her side.

  Finally, Penny sighed and stopped. "Can I help you with something?"

  Craig shrugged. "I have a question."

  "What's that?" Penny asked.

  "Why'd you get married?" Craig asked.

  Whatever Penny had expected, it wasn't that. Color flooded her face. "Excuse me?"

  "You got married," Craig said. "I heard all about it, Lady Arris. Why would you do that?"

  "That's none of your business," Penny said.

  "Did you love him?" Craig demanded.

  "That's not--" Penny began, but she quickly cut off, annoyed, "Why do you care?"

  "I'm just trying to judge your character, that's all," Craig said. "Seriously. Why'd you get married?"

  Penny didn't want to talk to him anymore, but she found herself answering all the same, "My parents wanted me to marry a soldier. They thought it would help keep me safe. So I married Kenneth instead, so I wouldn't be forced into a marriage with one of the Lamonte men."

  Craig considered this for a moment, "And why'd you come back to Valishna?"

  Penny frowned. She'd come back to Valishna because she'd believed Robert when he told her she could help the people in the city. She didn't want to share that, though. Not with how she'd abandoned them for nearly six months still fresh on her mind.

  She wasn't going to explain herself to Craig. So she started walking again.

  "You shouldn't have," Craig told her.

  "It's really none of your business," Pe
nny said again.

  "Yeah, well," Craig said, "You hurt someone I'm close with. I was close with. Whatever. That makes it my business."

  Penny glared at him, "I'm done with this conversation," she said. "I'll be going now." She expected Craig to follow her, but instead, he gave her such a look of loathing that she actually recoiled in surprise. Then he turned and walked away.

  Penny found more people hiding in the old quilting store. Just like in the ink shop, they were huddled together in the back room. This group of people had set up blankets in a way that made her think of birds in a nest.

  There were several children.

  Three adults stood up when she entered. Penny quickly showed her hands, "I'm here to help," she said firmly, "I'm a Priest."

  "Why would you want to help us?" a woman in the front demanded. "The priests don't help anymore. Everyone knows that."

  "I'm here to help," Penny repeated. "Do you have any injured?"

  Nobody spoke up. She sighed. "Alright," she said, "That's fine. But if anyone needs help of any kind, come to Penelope Belmonte."

  She opened her coin purse and dumped it one of the window sills. "That should be enough to buy food for a while," she told them, "Make good use of it."

  Robert had discouraged her from giving money out to the people she came by. He'd been helping a lot longer than she had, and he'd warned her that a lot of the people would use coin to buy alcohol.

  Penny wanted to believe the best in people though, and this group had children. They needed the silver far more than she did.

  She started to turn away when the woman who'd spoken up stepped forward, "Thank you."

  Penny nodded.

  "Do you think you might have a look at my daughter?" the woman asked, "She's just back here." She gestured towards one of the mounds of blankets.

  "Of course," Penny said, "That's what I'm here for."

  "Madison," the woman said, "come here, please."

  A little girl made her way out from the blankets and up to her mother. She couldn't have been older than three. She was dirty, like they all were, and looked malnourished.

  "What's wrong with her?" Penny asked.

  "She's not eating," the woman said, "and she's been complaining about a sore stomach. Nothing we do seems to help."

  Penny walked over to the little girl and knelt in front of her. "What did you say your name was?"

  "I'm Madison," the girl said.

  "Well, Madison, I'm Penny. I'm here to help you. Can you show me where your stomach hurts?"

  Madison pointed at her abdomen. "Right here."

  Penny nodded, lifting up the girl's shirt. She looked a little bloated. Penny pressed her fingers in multiple different sections of the girl's stomach, trying to illicit a response. When she pressed on her lower abdomen, Madison let out a sharp cry.

  For a moment, Penny just stared at the girl's stomach, trying to think. "Let me hear you breathe."

  Madison drew in several deep breaths while Penny kept her ear near the girl's chest. There was a raspy sound in her lungs.

  "Does she have asthma?" Penny looked up to the girl's mother.

  "Yes," the mother said, "She's had poor lungs since she was born."

  Penny nodded, "I thought as much. Do you give her medicine for it?"

  The woman nodded.

  "I'll bet," Penny said, "We'll find a rash on the bottoms of her feet. Can I see your feet, Madison?"

  Madison obliged, giggling a little as Penny took hold of a foot and peered at it, "Here we go," she said, "A red rash. Did you recently switch the asthma medicine you were using?"

  The woman blinked, "Yes," she said, "We ran out of her original and couldn't get more. One of the men found her some in an abandoned house."

  "She's having an allergic reaction to it," Penny said, "That's why her stomach hurts and she has a rash on her foot. You need to stop giving her that medicine."

  "What else am I supposed to do?" the woman said.

  Penny frowned. "I'll bring you the right medicine," she said. "I'll bring it by tomorrow, alright?"

  The woman nodded.

  "Does anyone else need help?" she asked the rest of the room. Everyone shook their heads.

  Penny nodded and excused herself. Once she was out of the backroom, she leaned briefly against the door. Even though she'd helped them, part of her knew it wasn't enough. It could never be enough.

  Instead of heading home, she went to the beach. She knew what Robert thought about it, but sometimes she just needed a moment alone.

  She kicked off her shoes when she got there and stood with her feet in the sand. The first wave of water over her feet felt icy cold. The next one that came was a little warmer. She crossed her arms and stared off into the distance.

  She imagined, for a bit, what her life would be like if Sullivan had never attacked Arinford. Her and Matilyn would have moved in together, they would have had a proper wedding, and they would have continued their services as priests.

  Penny shook her head. She knew it did little good to dwell on what might have been. For better or worse, she needed to move on.

  Just as she started to turn around and head home, she heard a voice behind her, "What are you doing out here?"

  She turned to see a soldier. "I'm enjoying the sea," she said.

  The soldier took a step closer, "Is that right? Who are you?"

  Penny blinked. Most of the soldiers knew her. She'd made herself quite notorious by continuing her healing in the Chapel. Of course, she hadn't been doing that for six months.

  "Penelope Belmonte," she said.

  The soldier stared at her a moment, thinking. "Belmonte... oh, you're the Arris widow."

  Penny nodded. "I should really get home," she said.

  Before she could move away, the soldier had grabbed her arm, "Not so fast," he said, "I was thinking, you probably get a little lonely these days. Is that right?"

  "I have plenty of company," Penny said coolly.

  The soldier laughed, "Not the kind of company that I could provide."

  Without thinking about it, Penny lifted a hand and slapped the soldier hard. His face grew red, but the slap had the desired affect: he let go of her arm.

  She quickly took off in a run. She could hear the soldier behind her, but didn't stop to look over her shoulder.

  Penny cursed when her foot hit a rock. She stumbled and fell to her knees. She quickly got back up, but the soldier had caught up to her. He grabbed her hair and tossed her back to the sandy shore.

  "I could have made his fun for both of us," he said.

  Penny started to struggle, but he laid his weight down on her, and she felt almost crushed.

  "Don't scream," he warned her, "I hate when women scream."

  One of his hands went to her shirt. He began to push the material up. Penny continued to thrash beneath him.

  Before he could get any further, a familiar voice interrupted them, "Hey now. That's not nice."

  The soldier blinked and looked over his shoulder. Penny struggled to see who the interrupter was. Craig Dalton stood there.

  "Don't you have any respect for privacy?" the soldier asked. "Can't you see me and the lady are busy?"

  Craig ignored this, "I'm going to have to ask that you leave her alone," he said in a pleasant voice.

  The soldier laughed.

  "Really, you don't want to push the matter," Craig said.

  The soldier shook his head, "If you wanna watch, I suppose it might be an enjoyable show." He went back to pawing at Penny's chest.

  Craig sighed. "Disappointing," he said, "but on the count of three, I'm going to put a dagger between the fingers of your right hand."

  The soldier laughed again and ignored him.

  "One," Craig said. He fished a dagger from his belt.

  "Two."

  "Stop threatening me," the soldier said, "You don't want on the bad side of me. I have a whole division of soldiers to call on."

  "Three," Craig said. He moved so fast that
his hand was almost a blur as he threw the dagger. It landed exactly where he'd said it would. The soldier's hand began to bleed all over Penny.

  He let out a howl of pain and indignation, pulling the blade out of his hand. He tossed it to the side.

  "Now," Craig said, "Get out of here, or this next one is going right in the area you pride yourself so much on."

  The soldier leapt to his feet and took off in a run.

  Penny pulled her shirt down and got to her feet as Craig approached. "Thank you," she said.

  Craig tilted his head at her, "You don't belong in this city anymore," he said in a cool tone, "Go home, Penny."

  She wanted to argue, or scream, or cry, but instead she gave a numb nod and followed his instructions, going home.

  SIX

  I Cannot Dream Of

  AFTER MATILYN AND SAMUEL HAD FINISHED THE preparations for the trip to Terifille, they waited for departure orders from the king. He was speaking with his daughter.

  Both of them pretended not to hear the conversation, though they were placed directly outside the king's private chambers and couldn't help but overhear. They exchanged a glance a time or two, but neither of them spoke.

  "Will you not reconsider?" Catherine asked her father. "This will make me extremely unhappy. Do you have no sympathy for me?"

  Matilyn nearly laughed. Catherine Sullivan was the last person she'd have offered sympathy to. From the time she'd spent in the castle, Matilyn had discovered the many rumors circulating about the crown princess. She was extremely intelligent, extremely manipulative, and extremely violent.

  "No," Sullivan said, "I will not change my mind, Catherine. I have already signed all official documents to make the betrothal legal. You will marry the prince when you arrive in Terifille."

  "Must I marry him?" Catherine asked, "Can we not spend some time together first, as a betrothed couple? I would like to know more about the man that I'm expected to spend the rest of my life with."

  "I have already told you," Sullivan said, "I will not reconsider. This is a necessary political binding that our kingdom needs. Terifille can offer us the gold we need to win this war."

  Matilyn heard Catherine let out a loud sniff. No doubt the girl was attempting to play on her father's sympathies by crying. It wouldn't be the first time that she'd done it. Matilyn resisted the urge to sigh. They should have left twenty minutes before. She detested breaking schedules.