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Revolution (Cartharia Book 2)

Page 10

by Spencer Reaves McCoy


  The three of them stepped out, as soon as the cell door was open.

  "Now what?" Will asked.

  Sean looked over at him. Sometimes he forgot how young the prince was. "Now we leave," he answered. He quickly knelt down, drawing the sword from the guard's scabbard. It was broader than what Sean was used to but it would do.

  Janice knelt down, patting down the dead man's pocket. She came up with a small knife. There were no other weapons.

  As the three of them made their way through the dungeons, several people shout out at them, some asking for release, some threatening to call the guards.

  Sean had instructed them not to speak to the prisoners but he could tell that Will wanted to. He wanted to help them. It wouldn't do any good. They couldn't take the prisoners with them.

  When they got the main door of the dungeon, Sean looked over at him. "Are you guys ready for this?"

  He saw by their faces that they were as ready as they'd ever be.

  The moment Will pulled the door open, Janice dropped to the ground, rolling forward. As expected, there were two guards waiting on the other side. She was hoping to catch them by surprise and she was successful. Both let out exclamations and curses as she bound back to her feet, fumbling to get their swords.

  Janice didn't hesitate, driving the small dagger forward into the throat of the first man. She yanked it out and a fountain of blood sprayed forward. She sidestepped to avoid most of it, though some still caught her. The feeling of fresh blood invigorated her. The soldier fell forward, dead.

  Sean took the other one in the back with the sword.

  Janice helped herself to one of the guard's swords and motioned for Will to take the other one. Hers was longer than she was accustomed to, but she kept it in hand anyway, feeling more comfortable with a lethal weapon as opposed to the knife she'd taken from the first guard.

  The three of them hurried out, glancing down the corridor. Janice remembered walking through the halls when she was brought in. Sean had sent her a message then, and she'd understood. Look, remember.

  She put a finger to her lips now, directing the men to be quiet. She led them down the corridor, not wanting Sean to go first. He had a sword but she was afraid he might stumble and fall. He was rather pale and shaky after the manipulation and she didn't trust his strength.

  They reached the other two doors at the end of the corridor.

  "This is the one they led us through," Janice said, pointing to the door on the left. "It goes down a long hallway, several rooms on the side. The fifth door on the left leads back to the stairs going up a floor."

  Sean nodded.

  "I don't think we can go this way," Janice said, keeping her voice low, "If we do, we're going to have to try one of those other doors and we don't know where they'd lead. We'll end up in a maze of the castle and we'll run into more guards."

  Sean gave a slight sigh, running a hand through his hair. The gesture was vaguely familiar. With a startling realization, Janice knew where she'd seen it before: it was something Eldrin used to do. Whenever he was frustrated, he'd do that exact thing.

  "We don't know what the other door leads to," he pointed out.

  Janice shrugged, "Sure we do. It'll lead to the guards' quarters."

  "How do you know?" Will asked.

  "When they brought us down here, there were guards headed in that door," Janice said, "I criticized the king right here, so they'd pause. I had a chance to peek inside. There were several more guards. This is their spot."

  Sean frowned at her.

  "I looked," Janice said, "and I remembered."

  This made Sean smile. The prince didn't seem interested in that, though. He was frowning at Janice, "If it's the guards' quarters, how are we going to get out?"

  Janice looked between the two. She leaned the sword up against the wall, "I have an idea," she admitted, "But you're not going to like it."

  Janice opened the door to the guards' room, her heart hammering heavily in her chest. She'd never considered herself overly brave, but she had to have courage now. Her life, and the lives of Sean and Will relied on it.

  There were nine guards in the room. She saw this immediately with the eyes of an archer and a sentry. They were all armed. This was not encouraging.

  She straightened her shoulders as the men turned towards her. She had tied her shirt up beneath her bosom, exposing her flat stomach. She had long legs and she used them to her advantage, strolling further into the room. "Boys."

  "What are you doing here?" one of the men said, dropping his hand to his sword. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  "What do you think?" Janice asked. She took another step into the room, pushing her chest forward. She'd also torn the front of her shirt, so she could expose her cleavage. She knew she had an ample amount showing now, and she used this as well. "The guard that came to give us dinner -- he told me I had the chance to repent of my ways. I'm ready to repent."

  Several of the men snickered.

  The largest of them, the one who'd spoken, didn't seem to believe her, "You're saying he sent you to entertain us?"

  "That's right," Janice said. She walked towards him, hands held up. "Don't you want to be entertained? I bet you boys don't see enough real action."

  "Well come here," the big man said. He didn't sound completely convinced yet. "I want to see you're serious, little lady."

  Janice forced herself to walk toward him. She knew her cheek were red, but she couldn't hesitate. It was too late to back out. Instead, she went forward, past several of the leering men. She hoped none of them would see the speckles of blood on her clothing and know what it was.

  When she reached the man, she looked up at his face, batting her eyelashes, "You want to go first?"

  "Damn right," he growled down at her. He grabbed her shoulders and crushed her towards him. It was unexpected and Janice nearly gasped out. But then he was kissing her and Janice knew she didn't have a choice but to go with it. She opened her mouth, letting his tongue force its way in. He tasted like stale cigarettes and cheap alcohol.

  She could also feel the stubble on his chin. It was scratching her face. She ignored this. One of his hands lowered, groping at her chest. She allowed it, as much as she wanted to push him away. She reminded herself that courage was necessary.

  Then his other hand dropped down even lower and she felt her face flood with embarrassment. Janice wanted to cry out at the touch, but she didn't. Instead she raised both of her hands to his shoulders, and drew him closer, kissing him harder.

  He acted instinctively, flipping her around. This was what Janice had been waiting for. She lowered a hand to his waist, and kept the other on his shoulder. As he violated her further, she flicked the dagger out of her sleeve, slashing deeply across his throat. With her other hand, she drew his sword.

  She dropped the dagger, shoving the man off her, even as she raised the sword with both hands. She backed herself into a corner.

  All of this happened before the other men had a chance to realize what was going on. When they did, they all drew their weapons.

  "What are you going to do?" one man asked, "fight us all? All alone? Oh, you're going to be fun."

  Janice couldn't even blink. She didn't want to miss a movement. She kept her sword up. She knew they couldn't come at her all at once, but there were still eight of them alive. Two came at her suddenly.

  Janice parried the first blow and then turned her sword, barely catching the other as it went toward her ribs. She wasn't the best swordsman but she managed to keep them from killing her.

  As soon as their swords clashed together again, the door of the room flew open. Sean and Will were both at the door, swords up.

  It was the advantage of surprise that they'd needed. Janice used the split second of distraction to drive her sword into the gut of one of the men attacking her. He stumbled backwards, face white.

  As the second man looked at her, Janice quickly stepped out of the corner, drawing her sword back from the
man's gut, dripping red. She held it in a duelist position.

  From the corner of her eye, she could see Sean engaging one of the men that came at him. Two others went for Will. The prince was good with a sword. Janice felt a wave of relief.

  She couldn't watch them though. She was still being attacked by one guard, and several others had moved in, trying to crowd her.

  She cut down another, but the third guard managed to get a blow on her. It bit into her side, but luckily she managed to duck back with only a surface scratch.

  "Janice!" Will cried out.

  Janice looked over at him. He'd managed to cut down one of the guards but another had moved to take his place and now Will was trying to take two out again. One of the guards attacking her had switched to Will, making it three.

  She dove to the side of the guard attacking her and grabbed the dagger from the floor. It wasn't quite like a bow, but she was a good shot with a deadly aim and when she threw the dagger, it hit one of the guards in the back. He crumpled to the side, knocking over one of the men attacking Will.

  Sean used this distraction to get advantage over the man he was fighting. He drew his sword up and drove it forward, much like one might use a staff, and he caught the guard just below the chin. It only severed his neck part way and the man stumbled back, howling in pain and horror before crumpling down, bleeding out slowly.

  Janice tore her eyes from this bloody mess as one of the guards still attacking swung at her abdomen. She reeled backwards and drove her sword up, catching him in the groin. He doubled over, screaming. She quickly ended his suffering with a blow to the chest.

  As she moved forward to help Will and Sean finish off the remaining guards, she realized her fear was gone. It was replaced by something else: she felt powerful.

  Janice had never felt so calm in her life. As the three of them finished the slaughter and stood back, examining the nine guards, who looked so bloody and gruesome in their deaths, she drew in her breath, her shoulders straightening again. She'd initiated this. She'd killed these men. She felt that power fill her again.

  She might have stood there all day, relishing in their deaths, but Sean grabbed her shoulder, "You're hurt."

  "I'm fine," she said. The truth was that she could barely feel the wound on her side. "Let's get out of here."

  Will and Sean both nodded as they went to the door on the other side of the room. This was their chance to escape, and they took it.

  TEN

  Most Fond and Winnowed Opinion

  PENNY GLANCED DOWN AT HER WINEGLASS. HER knuckles were almost white with how hard she was gripping it. If she squeezed any harder, the glass was apt to break.

  When she'd accepted her father's invitation to dinner, she'd expected the usual lectures he was known for. Valenth Belmonte had always been a man unwilling to hide his displeasure and disappointment.

  Jayira Belmonte, his wife and Penny's mother, simply looked at Penny. Her eyes were slightly glassy and she had a small smile. She was on her fourth glass of wine.

  "We've been over this," Penny said, "Father, I'm not getting married."

  "It's for the best, dear," Jayira murmured. Penny glared at her.

  "Your husband was convicted of treason," Valenth said. "It wouldn't take much for the soldiers to decide you were in on his little resistance movement. You need protection, Penelope."

  Penny shook her head, "I allowed you to cajole me into marriage once," she said, "but not again. I can't go through it."

  Jayira's gaze softened a bit, "Is this about that girl you used to date?"

  "Matilyn," Penny said sharply, "You know her name."

  "Yes," Jayira said, "Matilyn, that's right. Are you still mourning her? Is that why you've decided to go against our advice?"

  Penny shook her head, "I've decided to go against your advice because I'm tired of living a life that I'm not meant for."

  "You are meant for this," Valenth said, "You are my daughter. You deserve the best."

  For a moment, Penny was almost touched. She'd always been the problem child, growing up. When she'd joined the Chapel, her father had disapproved. When she brought Matilyn home for dinner, he'd disapproved. When she showed no interest in the family business or the family image, he'd disapproved.

  Part of her knew her father loved her despite their differences, but more and more, Penny had come to wonder if she loved him.

  "I will not get married," she said firmly, "and if you bring the subject up again, I will have to distance myself from you."

  "I am your lord and father," Valenth said. He had a slight bite to his voice now. "You will do as you are commanded."

  "And I have," Penny said, "I got married, like you wanted. But I will not do it again."

  Jayira sighed, "Must you make this so hard on your father, dear? He only wants what's best for you."

  "One more word about it," Penny said, "and I'm going to walk out the door and we're going to go our separate ways."

  Valenth glared at Penny. She glared back. For a moment, she thought he might say something anyway, take her up on her offer.

  Then Jayira said, "Fine. Have you heard from Robert lately?"

  Penny blinked. "I saw him a few days ago, I think," she said, "Why?"

  Jayira sniffed, "I just wonder if he's still running around with that girl."

  "Erin?" Penny said blankly.

  "That's the one," Jayira said, "Is he still seeing her then?"

  Penny said, "Well, they do have a child together. I think they're in for the long haul."

  Jayira scoffed, "As if that child is his. Anyone can tell it's a bastard child that she used to manipulate your brother."

  Penny stared at her mother, trying to decide if the other woman was serious. She knew the truth, of course -- the child really wasn't his, but that was a secret she'd kept for him. The rest of Valishna believed the baby to be his.

  "She's not manipulating him," Penny said, "Robert cares for her. He says he'll marry her soon."

  Valenth grunted, "We'll see about that."

  "She makes him happy," Penny said.

  "Yes well, plenty of things make your brother happy. But responsibility comes before personal pleasure," Valenth said, "I've tried to teach that to the both of you since you were babes in your mother's arms. I can see that I have failed."

  Penny sighed.

  "Now," Valenth said, "the reason I invited you to dinner was--"

  "So you could try and convince me to get married," Penny said.

  Valenth shook his head, "No. That was simply my recommendation. I asked you here because I wanted to speak about the allegations you are leveling against one of the Lamonte soldiers."

  "How'd you find that out?" Penny demanded. When Peter Sterling had stopped by for tea, she'd told him about the man who'd attacked her. She'd given his description as best she could but she had no name.

  "Valishna can be a small town sometimes," Jayira murmured.

  "Well then, you'd know the soldier in question tried to force me," Penny said. "Of course I'm leveling charges."

  Valenth shook his head, "If I can't convince you to marry, at least listen to me on this. You do not want to press charges against a soldier. Let the matter go while you still have the chance."

  "People are getting beaten, raped, and abused out there," Penny said, "The soldiers are vicious animals. If I can take one more out, I'll consider it a job well done."

  "Penelope," Valenth said, his voice softening a little, "I do understand why you feel you must follow this through, but I beg of you -- forget about it. You don't want to make enemies, and you will make enemies if you get one of the soldiers' bosom buddies into trouble."

  "Your father is right, dear," Jayira said, "It's best to let this die down. You shouldn't go stirring up more trouble."

  "He tried to rape me!" Penny exclaimed.

  "And he failed," Valenth said, "He'll deny it to his dying breath and you've no evidence other than your word against his."

  Penny shook her
head, "There was a witness. A man who saved me. Craig Dalton."

  Jayira shook her head, "And you expect him to defend you against a swarm of angry soldiers? No, you'll end up on the chopping block yourself, or dead in your bed."

  Penny could think of no argument against this. She knew better than most that a lot of the crimes the soldiers committed were overlooked or glossed over. It disgusted her. The whole situation disgusted her.

  She wondered what Matilyn would have done. Would she let it go? Somehow, Penny doubted that.

  Still, Matilyn was gone. Dead, for all Penny knew. She sighed and bowed her head, "You're right. I understand."

  "Good," her father said. Jayira let out a sigh of relief.

  "I'm going home now," Penny said. When her father began to rise from his chair, she waved him back down. "Don't worry. I can walk myself out."

  Peter Sterling caught up to Penny as she made her way through the streets, heading back to her estate. "You know," he said, "You shouldn't be walking alone, Lady Arris. Especially after what happened the other night. I hate to speak ill of the people of Valishna, but it's just not safe."

  Penny stared at her for a moment, "You realize it's not the citizens that are the problem? It's your soldiers. Since Kenneth's death at the hands of those soldiers, I can't stand to be around them."

  "Now now," Peter said, "I know they can get a bit out of control, especially when they've been drinking, but these are generally good men and women. In regards to Kenneth, I am deeply sorry for your loss, but you do know my hands were tied?"

  "I hold nothing against you, Commander," Penny said, "but my friendship does not extend to your soldiers. Your men, your thugs are the worst kind of people. The things they do in the city are repulsive. You know what they do."

  Peter sighed lightly. He gestured up at the sky. "It's beautiful out tonight, don't you think? The sky is so clear. In Lamonte, it was never like this. It always rained where I'm from. You could never see the stars or the moons so clearly."

  Penny shook her head. Before she could start up again, Peter held up a hand.

 

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