Revolution (Cartharia Book 2)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

Penny resisted the urge to sigh or roll her eyes. "I have a way with people. You know what? You can come with me, Joanna. Maybe you'll learn something about winning people to your side."

  Joanna narrowed her eyes. She was about to retort when Craig interrupted.

  "That's fine," he said, "I'll speak with you about that later, Penny. What I'd like the six of you to do is go home, figure out two or three places you can meet with your groups. Switch between them when you get everyone together. Try not make it any kind of pattern. Work on some stories; what you could be doing there, why you're meeting, that kind of thing."

  Ryan nodded. "We always told the Guard we were hosting poker nights at my home."

  "That works," Craig said, "but make sure to shake it up a little too. Find other homes to meet at."

  Ryan nodded again.

  "The first thing I want you to do is get to know the people in your group," Craig said, "Get to know what their strengths are, and what their weaknesses are. We need to know what we've got to work with. The best thing to do is have each group focus on a different area, and get your people trained to work on that."

  Penny frowned, "Different areas?"

  "We need a recruitment group," he explained with a sigh, "and we're going to need a group that primary focuses on just that. We also need a group that's going to work on making the soldiers feel uncomfortable here. People in charge of gathering information. People in charge of killing."

  "Killing?" Penny said, "We're trying to drive them out, not kill them."

  Craig leaned forward suddenly so his face was inches from her. She was shocked by the intensity of the gaze. She felt a familiar stirring in her stomach, but couldn't focus on that right now. "Do you think it's going to be pretty, Penny? That you can just pull a few tricks and the soldiers will pack up and leave? No. Blood is going to be shed -- a lot of it, in fact."

  He leaned back, and looked at them all, "I don't know what you did before, but blood will be shed. And not just theirs. We're going to lose people too. That's a price you need to know if you can pay. Can all of you stomach the idea of blood on your hands?"

  Penny looked away from him. She saw the others exchanging more glances and agreeing with him. Even Erin agreed it was worth it. Penny knew it to be true too. That's why she'd started the resistance, why she'd gathered everyone together. It was still hard to accept through; that people were going to die, and that her people, her friends, her home, might just do some of the killing.

  "Penny," Craig said, "Can you do it?"

  "Yes," Penny said in a small voice, "Of course I can."

  "Good," Craig said, "You have a week. Get to know your people and then six of us will meet back here, in the penance room. At that point, we'll figure out just how to go about assigning people to their different tasks. Questions?"

  Penny watched everyone in the room lean forward, their faces eager. It was a good thing. That's what she kept telling herself. It was good they had Craig. But she couldn't forget the way he'd talked to her, or the expression on his face.

  THIRTEEN

  We'll Feast Together

  STINI TOOK ANOTHER BITE OF HIS STEW, watching the gathering not far away. Many of the men were gathered together, drinking pilfered mead and laughing. It had been a few weeks since their last attack and everyone seemed to be in good spirits.

  Rose was with them, and he watched her the most. She threw her head back and laughed. The sound drifted over to him, and he scowled harder. So far, he'd kept her back from the attacks on the villages, along with a few others.

  She'd been angry at first. She was one of his lieutenants after all, and she believed her lack of presence made her seem less of an officer in the men's eyes. Stini understood her line of thinking but he couldn't stand the thought of letting the light fade from her eyes.

  It took something out of a man, what they were doing. It left them feeling hollow and dirty. He thought that was why the men were spending the night in a faux celebration. They finally had a break from the senseless killing.

  It really didn't matter what she thought, of course. He was her commanding officer and if he ordered her to stay behind, she'd stay behind. He'd told her as much, and in a rare burst of anger, she'd stormed off, leaving him alone.

  Rose laughed again, and Stini watched the way her hair framed her face, and the way the fire illuminated her features. She looked beautiful, and soft.

  "Stini."

  Stini looked up. Aeliana had joined him.

  "What can I do for you, Jehryme?"

  Aeliana shrugged. She was holding her own bowl of stew, and she took a seat next to him. "Why aren't you with them?" She nodded in the direction of the gathering.

  Stini looked at her a moment, "Why aren't you?" he countered.

  "I'm not in the mood," Aeliana said. "We have work to do tomorrow, and I'd rather not be up all night."

  "They deserve a night off," Stini said. "So do you."

  Aeliana took a bite of the stew. After she'd swallowed, she shrugged again. "Look who's talking," she said. "You should be with them, you know. They'd like that. You're the leader here."

  "Nobody wants me over there," Stini said. Aeliana met his gaze, and he saw the truth reflected in her eyes. He'd never noticed the deep green color before, or the way they seemed to showcase so much of her emotion.

  She couldn't argue the statement, because she knew it to be true.

  "You love her, don't you?" Aeliana asked.

  "Who?" Stini asked, but he already knew.

  Aeliana nodded towards Rose, "I saw you watching her," she said. "You had a look in your eye, one I've never seen before."

  "Can I tell you something, Jehryme?" Stini asked.

  "What's that?" Aeliana asked.

  "I love them all," Stini said. "I guess I have to. These are the men and women that risk their lives, their souls on the words of a drunk."

  "Don't," Aeliana said.

  "Why not?" Stini said, "It's true. You're all out there fighting, doing the unthinkable because I ordered it done. I've taken a lot from them. Of course I love them."

  He thought Aeliana might argue with him, or criticize him, but instead she nodded. "They love you too, you know. They're scared of you, and they may not want to sit with you and drink away their worries over a few old stories from before the war, but they love you. You've given them purpose."

  "Our purpose is death," Stini said.

  "It doesn't matter," Aeliana said. She sounded like she was losing patience, "It doesn't matter, Stini. Can't you see that?"

  "I guess I can't," he said.

  "Then open your eyes," Aeliana said, "Look around. The men are still here. They're not sneaking away in the middle of the night. They're not cursing your name. They're not arguing. They belong to you."

  "Do you?" Stini asked.

  She looked at him, her eyes blazing. This time, he didn't recognize the emotion he saw. He could guess at what it was, but it would only be a guess. "Jehryme?"

  "In another world, we'd never have met," Aeliana said, "We certainly wouldn't have become friends."

  Stini stared at her.

  "But this isn't another world," Aeliana said, "We're here, and we're together. That means something. You're our leader."

  "You didn't answer the question," Stini said.

  "I don't have to," Aeliana said, and this time, he saw something he did recognize in her eyes. There was a deep, fiery passion. The kind of passion that came from killing women, and children, and men, and babies.

  Then they were kissing, and it was like nothing Stini had ever experienced before. He plunged his hands into her hair, and held her tightly against him, their stews forgotten on the side.

  It wasn't the love he'd dreamt of as a child. He'd had love like that. He'd had it with his wife, and his children. Gods, he missed them. He thought that, as the two of them embraced. He missed them, more than anything.

  Aeliana wasn't his wife. She wasn't even Rose, his soft-hearted lieutenant. She was made of something else
: steel, he thought, and steel was just what he needed.

  Later that night (or was it morning? Stini wondered), he and Aeliana laid together in his tent, both of them sweating, and a bit out of breath.

  There was silence for a time, the sort of silence that always follows what may or may not have been a bad decision. Then Aeliana looked over at Stini. Her hair spilled down around her shoulders, and her chest was still bare. She was beautiful, he thought, but she had teeth. If the moment came, she wouldn't hesitate to use them.

  He thought the teeth meant more than the beauty, and that terrified him a little.

  After a while, she said, "This doesn't mean--"

  He abruptly cut her off, "Don't you think I know that, Jehryme?"

  The flash of anger, so quick in her eyes, made him regret the harsh tone he'd used, but it was too late to take it back. It was too late to take anything back, for that matter.

  "Tonight," she said, "when we take out the recruits, I think we should double our force from expected."

  "Why?" Stini asked. His mind was on other matters. Specifically the bottle that sat in the corner of his tent, half-gone already, and crying out to him to have a sip, just a little sip. He'd never been able to say no. Not to the bottle.

  "Call it intuition," Aeliana said dryly. "I don't know. I just have a feeling we're going to need them."

  Stini thought it over for a minute, "We'll take our original number, but we'll have a group the same size waiting in the background. If we come into trouble, they'll come in."

  Aeliana nodded, satisfied.

  For a time, they stayed like that, each thinking their own thoughts, each deciding what the evening really meant. Then Aeliana stood, gathering her clothes. Despite the fact they'd slept together, Stini still averted her eyes while she dressed.

  Without a word, she slipped from the tent, leaving him alone. She left so little of a presence that Stini actually wondered if she'd been there at all. Could it have been a dream? A nightmare? He didn't know.

  Eventually, he got up too. The sun peeked over the horizon, illuminating their camp in long, narrow shadows. He saw Aeliana in the distance, talking to Rose. They both looked serious enough but then Rose laughed.

  He shook his head and went to get some coffee.

  The day passed in an endless circle of repetition: people preparing for the night's raid, already forgetting about the enjoyment of the evening before. People coming to him for advice, or courage, or just for a moment of his company.

  He'd said he'd loved them the night before, and he hadn't been lying. He wished, oh he wished, that he could give them more than his company. He wished he could give them comfort, and peace. That was beyond him though. He wasn't meant for this sort of role, and it was glaringly obvious in the light of day.

  When preparations were finished, he stood at the front of the group he'd chosen to go with him. Armor gleamed, and the sun glinted off sharpened weaponry.

  They were going after a newly formed unit of Lamonte soldiers, soldiers who were still in training.

  No doubt, there would be a higher ranking officer with them, but that was just fine. One officer was nothing. Stini could take him out himself. Many of the others could too.

  "Remember," he said to the group once evening had started to fall, "Our goal is to kill all of them, and kill all of them quickly. We don't want to risk giving any man a chance to escape and go tell other, larger forces that we're here. Any questions?"

  There were none. There hadn't been in a while. They all knew their jobs.

  Aeliana rode at his side, as usual, and he was glad to see her. It helped a little, knowing the night before hadn't changed anything.

  "Stini," she said, "We've got to find that officer, or officers, quickly."

  "I know it," he said in response.

  They arrived after the sky darkened. There was plenty of moonlight to light their way though.

  It seemed too simple. The sentries were few, and they took those out with little problem. Then they moved into the main camp. It was set up much like their own; easily erected structures for drying meat, wagons full of supplies, campfires littering the area.

  Except the campfires weren't burning, and there weren't men wandering around the camp, too awake to sleep.

  "Commander?" Eric Roldes strode up to him. He was one of the younger men in camp, barely older than Rory Remmus had been. He still had craters on his face from the deep acne of adolescence. "Commander, where are the people?"

  At first, Stini thought they'd marched right into an ambush. He expected a larger, more formidable unit to fall in at any time to crush them. Nobody came though. He met the young soldier's eyes and shrugged, "I don't know," he said.

  Eric looked worried. Stini glanced around and saw that all of his men looked worried. No doubt they shared the same thoughts of ambush that he'd had.

  Then a voice pierced through the silence, loud and clear and strong, "They're in the tents," the voice said. Then it quavered. "Oh gods."

  Stini hurried to the closest tent to him. He yanked it open and peered inside. There was a man in there, alright. He was twenty, perhaps a little older. He was dressed in military wear, but he wasn't moving.

  Stini thought he might be dead till he saw the rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing, but barely. He knelt down beside him, and checked his push. Weak, but there.

  Then he saw the man's face. He was sweaty, too sweaty. Stini put a hand on his forehead. The man was burning up with fever. His face was a deep yellow color, and there was black splotches near his lymph nodes.

  Stini jerked his hand away as though it had been burnt. He quickly ducked out of the tent.

  "Yellow fever," he said to Eric, his mind racing, "These men have the yellow fever."

  Eric's face drained of color.

  "Get the men," Stini commanded at once, "Get them away from the tents."

  Eric ran.

  Stini ran too, yelling out for the soldiers to back away from the Lamonte men. Once they'd joined near the outskirts of the camp, he repeated himself, "Yellow fever."

  He saw the looks of fear pass amongst his men. The yellow fever was a deadly disease, highly contagious. It had spread through several kingdoms a few centuries back, killing millions. While there was still the occasional outbreak, they thought the mass death from it was over.

  "What do we do?" one woman asked.

  Stini thought about their options. They needed to stay away from the men, that much was certain. If they didn't, the Lost Brigade would soon become the Dead Brigade. "We burn it," he finally said.

  "Burn it?" Aeliana repeated, "We need to get as far away as possible."

  "No," Stini said, "We need to do what we came here for. We can't slit their throats -- they won't fight back, but we don't want their blood on us. We burn them. Let their remains make our statement for us."

  He could tell that most of the men would rather have turned right around and head back to where the others awaited, but nobody argued the orders.

  Aeliana held his gaze for a moment and then turned to the troops, "Get enough birch to surround the camp," she said, "We'll light it after. The fire will spread to the troops fairly easily with the strength of the wind."

  Everyone hurried to follow her command.

  "Go back to the troops we have lying in wait," Stini told Aeliana, "Get them back to camp. Listen to me, Jehryme, tell them nothing."

  "Nothing?" Aeliana repeated.

  "We can't afford panic," Stini said. "It's best if only the men here tonight knew what happened."

  "You want to lie to them?" Aeliana said, "Do you think that's the right thing to do?"

  Stini shrugged, "I don't know much of anything these days, Jehryme. But we can't let this get out."

  Aeliana nodded, but then paused, "And if we've already got it?"

  Stini stared past her, up at the moons, "If we've already got it," he said, "Then Gods have mercy on our souls."

  FOURTEEN

  For His Weapon
>
  PENNY SAT ACROSS FROM THE SMALL GATHERING in her home as Thomas brought in a tray of tea and biscuits. Not everyone looked hungry, but they all accepted the offered snack anyway.

  How many times had she seen Kenneth sit in this exact chair, with a group of people across from him, waiting for his instructions?

  There was a wine glass near her but Penny opted for the tea instead. The other Penny wanted the wine, of course, but she put that girl on a back shelf in her mind, and good riddance. She was like to come out still, but Penny thought she was slowly becoming who she wanted to be.

  "I'm glad you could all come here today," she said.

  "I almost couldn't," Sirn admitted. "One of the soldiers wanted to pick a fight with me. I told him I didn't have the time or patience to deal with him today. I think he wanted to toss me in a jail cell for a few days. Your commander friend saved me the trouble."

  The young woman from the Chapel, the one who'd stood, looked over at Penny, her expression sharp. "Your friend?"

  Penny met her eyes. Now that she had some time to actually get to know everyone present, she'd realized that the woman was more of a girl, perhaps in her late teens. Part of Penny wanted to tell her to go home, stay safe, and forget all about the resistance. The girl was passionate though, and willful. They could use that.

  "Peter Sterling," Penny clarified, "He's not my friend, but we are on friendly terms. He brings patients to the chapel and he does his best to reign in his men when they start causing trouble."

  The girl scoffed.

  Penny sighed and turned her attention to the rest of the group. "Do you all know each other?" There were seven of them total. Four men, three women. They all looked at each other now, unsure.

  "Chrissa Stone," the girl said, "That's who I am. Lamonte killed my family; all of them, even my little sister. I don't care how much help one of their men gives, they're the enemy, and I'd see everyone of them dead."

  Chrissa looked at the group, defiant. Penny could see the anger dancing in her eyes. She wanted to reach out to the girl, but she knew it wasn't the right time or the right place. Instead, she turned her gaze to Sirn.