Revolution (Cartharia Book 2)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  Night terrors were different from dreams. Night terrors were memories played back, brought on my fever, reminders of everything that had frightened or worried a person during the day light hours.

  She'd had a few herself, when she'd been young and sick. Everything became twisted in them, more gruesome than reality, and she'd woken up screaming a few times. Her mother had always been there to comfort her.

  Janice was there for Sean now, and she reached out to stroke his face. She knew a lot of people wouldn't get near someone with the yellow fever for fear of catching it, but she couldn't leave Sean alone. Not like this.

  He cried out suddenly, his voice shrill and high-pitched. It startled her, and for a moment, her breath caught in her throat and she couldn't breathe. She looked around for Will, but the young prince had finally succumbed to sleep.

  He'd stayed up as much as he could, always at Janice's side. The soldiers didn't like it. She knew Arthimur Stini wanted Will away from anyone with the sickness, but Will had refused to leave Sean's side. Sean had saved his life after all.

  Still, he couldn't stay up forever and he'd finally conceded to taking a nap. That's where he was now, probably having his own version of night terrors, except his weren't memories repeated back. His were memories of things to come, a glimpse into an uncertain future.

  Janice shuddered. She remembered how it felt, holding the amulet, feeling the weight of the young prince's dreams, and everything that caused him such turmoil when he woke. It had been terrifying to finally visualize what it was he'd been talking about.

  She knew they needed Sean. Whatever was to come, Sean was part of it.

  If he survived.

  A tear dripped down her face.

  Sean twisted again, and then screamed out a name. It wasn't one she recognized, and after a minute, she realized she hadn't recognized his voice either. He was calling out to someone unknown from a voice that wasn't his.

  This startled her out of her melancholy. She frowned at him, unsure. Then he called out for his mother. Then his father. Then his brother.

  Sean had grown up with his sister and uncle. His parents had never been a part of his life, and he didn't have a brother.

  It only became worse from there. He started incoherently mumbling to people who didn't exist. Names of people she didn't know, and was sure that he didn't know either. He pleaded about things that had nothing to do with him, laughed over experiences he hadn't shared.

  It frightened her terribly. She knew the sickness sometimes made people incoherent, especially near the end, but she'd never seen it implant memories from others.

  Janice didn't know what to do. She tried shaking him awake, but his head lolled and when he opened his eyes, he didn't recognize her.

  "Marcia," he gasped out, "Marcia, I didn't mean to leave the stove lit. I didn't mean to. Mikey burnt his hands, and oh gods, that was my fault. I didn't mean to, though. I swear, I didn't."

  "Sean," Janice said, "Sean, who are you talking to? Who's Marcia?"

  He lapsed into quiet again and then said, "I should have been able to save him."

  "Save who?" Janice said.

  Sean met her eyes, "Eldrin," he told her.

  Janice blinked, "It wasn't your fault, what happened," she said. "You know that."

  "I was his best friend," Sean said, "We signed up together. I should have taken care of him."

  This startled Janice so badly that her hands started to shake.

  "He only joined because of me," Sean said, "I knew he hated it. I knew. I did nothing, though. What was I supposed to do?"

  "You're not Matilyn," Janice whispered.

  "And Mikey burnt his hands," Sean said, "I didn't mean to leave the fire going. I didn't."

  Janice closed her eyes.

  Sean drifted back into silence, but when she opened her eyes, he was watching her. Warily. Then she saw his hand drift towards his amulet.

  It all made sense suddenly. Of course, he'd have other memories. He'd been sharing the emotion of people for nearly two years. She was surprised he hadn't yet began to call out to her family.

  The realization made her tilt her head in wonder. It was terrible, yes, but it was also sort of captivating. The idea behind the amulet, the way it worked, the way it influenced him, it was sort of amazing.

  Janice thought this for only a moment and then a dark hatred filled her. She hated that amulet, and what it was doing to him. Not just when he was sick, either. She hated it all the time. It changed him, and she wanted Sean how he was before it ever existed. She loved him, of course she did, but she didn't love the foul creation that hung around his neck.

  She hesitated, wishing Will were awake to talk to. He wasn't, though. The decision was all hers.

  "I'm sorry, Sean," she whispered. She leaned forward, putting her hands gently on top of his. She began to move his fingers.

  He tried to resist, but the fever had robbed him of his strength. It only took her a moment to pry his grip from around the amulet. Once she had, she pulled the chain from around his neck.

  Sean's eyes shot open, "What are you doing?" he whispered.

  "I'm saving you," Janice said. "Someday you'll thank me."

  Then she took the amulet away from him, and left him alone to finish fighting the fever off on his own. She'd return, and she'd nurse him back to health. Eventually, his fever would fade and the black splotches would disappear and his color would return to normal.

  Right now, though, she had something else she needed to do. She needed to get rid of the amulet. Yet when she approached the nearby stream that she meant to bury it near, the gem felt heavy in her hand. In the end, she slipped the necklace around her neck and returned to camp, to nurse her beloved.

  NINETEEN

  Heart of My Mystery

  MATILYN AND SAMUEL STOOD TOGETHER, IN FRONT of the King.

  "Has he been caught?" Samuel asked, his anger lending his voice a tight, constricted sound.

  Lee Sanders shook his head, "No. Not yet."

  "How could have gotten away?" Matilyn demanded. "We responded within minutes, if not seconds. Where could he have gone?"

  Lee shook his head, "The castle has many passageways that lead away from the area. I assure you, though, we are exercising every resource at our disposal to finding the man who attacked Princess Catherine. We will find him."

  Samuel and Matilyn both sighed. They'd both responded to the sound of Catherine's ear splitting scream in the dead of night. They'd found her passed out with a massive wound in her chest that put her close to death. For a while, nobody was certain if she'd survive.

  The person who'd committed the deed was nowhere to be found. Of course. Matilyn thought she'd seen... but no. No, that couldn't be right.

  "When Princess Catherine has begun to recover," Lee said, "We will need to have the wedding immediately. We cannot wait. This was clearly an act of sabotage--"

  "Who would want to prevent her from taking her place as the future queen?" Matilyn asked. "Was there another family being considered for the betrothal?"

  "Or perhaps somebody who doesn't wish for the alliance between Lamonte and Terifille?" Samuel suggested.

  Matilyn shook her head, "You can't imagine we'd force the marriage with the princess in such dire circumstance. How can we guarantee her safety?"

  Samuel nodded, "Her father would never allow her life to be in danger."

  Lee sighed. "I don't know what to do," he admitted when they'd finished their talking, "There are plenty of people within the court that opposed the alliance between our two kingdoms. As for marriage prospects, I considered an alliance with the Swin family. Their daughter, Ra'sha, would have married Oliver had Richard not approached me about Catherine."

  "As for the wedding," Lee said, "It must go on. I know you are both worried about the safety of Catherine, but she will be much safer once the wedding has happened. Delaying it will only give the persons behind the crime more time to complete the act."

  Samuel glared at him.r />
  Matilyn sighed.

  "I know you are worried," Lee said, "but we will catch the people behind this. Our alliance must remain strong."

  "You're right," Matilyn said, "Lamonte cannot afford to lose Terifille as an ally."

  "And Terifille cannot afford to anger Lamonte by disregarding its need," Lee said gently. "We are on the same side, all three of us."

  Samuel shook his head, "One of us needs to remain with Catherine at all times. She must be under constant guard."

  "I will provide men--" Lee began.

  "No," Matilyn interrupted, "Samuel and I will take shifts."

  "Are you certain?" Lee said, "I have men that I trust with my life. They will protect Catherine as though she were their own flesh and blood."

  Samuel shook his head, "You might trust them but we hardly know anyone in this court. To us, anyone could be the enemy. Malevus is right, the two of us will take shifts covering the watch of the princess."

  Lee sighed, "If you are sure."

  "We're sure," Matilyn and Samuel said together. They exchanged a look.

  "In fact," Matilyn said, "I will go to her now. I want to question her now that she's awake. Perhaps she remembers something that will be of use to us."

  After making the required pleasantries and farewells to the king, Matilyn left the room. Before heading towards Catherine's sick quarters, she leaned against the wall, drawing in a deep breath.

  The attack on Catherine had rattled her to the core. The last thing she'd wanted was for the princess to get killed. She might not like or trust the girl but she was the daughter of Richard Sullivan, the Good King. Her life was precious.

  She didn't want to imagine what would have happened if the attacker had succeeded with their goal of killing the princess. What would Sullivan have done? Would he have declared a war against Terifille? Would he have broken down, unable to continue his work?

  It wasn't just that, though. She loved Sullivan. She didn't know what it was like to lose a child, but she'd lost enough people -- her mother, Eldrin, for starters -- that she knew what grief could do to a person. She didn't want him to have to face that alone.

  Matilyn went down to Catherine's quarters after she'd composed herself and let herself in. Catherine was awake, talking to the nurse who'd worked diligently to save her life.

  The nurse smiled at Matilyn, "I assume you've come to question Catherine. I'm not sure I can condone that in her current state."

  "You can, and you will," Matilyn said. "I'm a Priest. You've no need to worry about her being alone. Please leave us."

  The nurse seemed ready to argue but perhaps something in Matilyn's face warned her away from the idea. She turned to Catherine, "I will return," she promised, "You'll have to finish telling me the story about the goat when I do."

  Apparently Catherine had been continuing her act of sweetness, this time with the nurse. Matilyn felt a weird sort of respect fill her for the girl. She was certainly consistent, and remaining that way despite getting nearly stabbed to death was admirable.

  "Commander," Catherine greeted.

  "Catherine," Matilyn said. She pulled a chair up to the beside, "How are you doing, Princess?"

  Catherine shrugged a shoulder, "I've been better," she admitted.

  "I have to wonder," Matilyn said, "When you were stabbed, why didn't you heal yourself? I've seen you manipulate."

  "Didn't you hear?" Catherine asked, "The blade was coated in some sort of poison that blocks manipulation. I've got to heal naturally. Manipulation is unable to speed my recovery time."

  Matilyn frowned. Something about this struck her as funny but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what. She let it go for now. "I see."

  "I suppose you've come to question me," Catherine said, "but Commander, I hate to tell you, but I don't remember anything. I was sleeping when the attack happened. I woke to the pain. Then I passed out."

  "I thought as much," Matilyn said, "But can't you recall anything? You woke briefly you said. Did you hear footsteps? See the flash of a cloak? Anything at all?"

  "No," Catherine said, "Nothing."

  Matilyn sighed, "In the last few weeks, have you met anyone who wishes you ill? Have there been threats, or anger directed towards you?"

  "Nothing," Catherine said.

  "We believe this might have been a political attack," Matilyn told her, "Someone wishing to hurt the alliance between our two kingdoms. Or perhaps the family that was to marry into the throne before your father decided on the betrothal between you and Oliver."

  Catherine sat up a little straighter. She winced, her hand moving to the wound on her chest. "Oliver," she said, "how is he? Is he alright? I want to see him at once."

  Matilyn shook her head, "We don't think you should be taxing yourself with visitors right now," she told the girl.

  "He is my betrothed," Catherine said, "I want to see my fiancé."

  "I can't allow that," Matilyn said.

  Catherine's eyes narrowed, "You can," she said. Then, sensing that she was treading on light ice, she smiled, "Please. I was almost killed. I want to see someone that I love."

  Matilyn sighed, "I will consider it," she finally said, "I will have to discuss it with Commander Frien. Your safety is our number one priority right now. You were lucky, Catherine -- if your wound had been anywhere else, it would have surely proved fatal."

  "Lucky me," Catherine murmured.

  "One of us will stay with you at all times," Matilyn said, "We will also have guards posted at the door of the room." She paused. "We're going to become very good friends in the next few weeks."

  Catherine's smile widened even further, "Oh good," she said. "How I look forward to that."

  Three days passed and still they made no headway on who had attacked the princess. Both Matilyn and Samuel grew frustrated. They'd searched the castle and not yet found any knife-wielding maniac, nor had they gleaned any information from their interviews with members of the court and with the Swin family.

  Catherine was the life and soul of the party, clearly enjoying the attention that was lavished upon her. She'd begged until Matilyn and Samuel had finally relented and allowed Oliver into see her. They'd given the two a few moments alone and when she'd suffered nothing more than an acute case of longing for more time with her beloved, they'd started to allow her more frequent visits from the prince.

  On one of the nights that Samuel had guard duty, Matilyn found herself kneeling in one of the sanctuaries. She bowed her head, praying to the Gods that soon they would find out more information.

  More than that, she asked for forgiveness. She wanted forgiveness for her tryst with Lynelli. It had been unprofessional at best. She'd clearly hurt the younger woman. She'd seen her that day, and Lynelli had caught her eye and then fled from the room. Matilyn had heard her sobs in the halls.

  Matilyn remembered what it was like to suffer a broken heart. Throughout her four year relationship with Penny, they'd split up many times. Each time had felt like the last, and each time had hurt more than she thought possible.

  Of course, she and Penny had years and years of friendship to make the breakup seem worse. It was hard to lose a lover, but it was even harder to lose a friend.

  "I thought I'd find you in here, Malevus."

  Matilyn turned to see Samuel approaching. She immediately stood. "You're supposed to be with Catherine."

  "Oliver's with her, and all of his private guard," Samuel said with a roll of his eyes, "Nobody could get in there. I couldn't stand any more of of the lovey-dovey mush coming out of her mouth."

  Matilyn suppressed a smile. Then she remembered where they were. "What do you want?"

  Samuel switched feet a few times. "It's an important day for you," he said, "You don't have anyone else here."

  "What are you talking about?" Matilyn asked.

  "I know it's your birth date today," he said. "That's how I knew I'd find you here. Priests from Arinford, they go to the Chapels on their celebration day. I looked up t
he customs in one of Sander's books."

  Matilyn stared at him, "How did you know that? That it's my birthday today, I mean."

  Samuel shrugged, "I learned it from the Good King," he admitted, "I asked before I left if he knew."

  "Why?" Matilyn demanded.

  "To taunt you with," Samuel said. He stared at her feet, "That's why I'm here. Not to taunt you, Malevus, but to apologize. I know why you hate me. That kid, from the attack. That's why, right?"

  Matilyn numbly nodded.

  "I didn't know he was a kid when I killed him," Samuel said, "Gods, I wish I could take it back. I know I seem like I don't care, but I do. I care about every person I kill. I know you do too. I think that's why we're meant to serve together."

  "You believe we're meant to serve together?" Matilyn asked.

  Samuel nodded, "I do now. I believe you and I, we're the ones that are going to win this war for King Sullivan. Tell me you don't feel the same way."

  "I do," Matilyn said with no hesitation.

  "I don't have a gift for you," Samuel said.

  "Priests don't accept gifts on their birth dates," Matilyn told him, "Didn't you read that in the book? Any gifts we'd accept, we ask that people give them to the gods as an offering instead."

  Samuel snorted, "That must make for a shitty celebration."

  "This is a place of worship," Matilyn chided, "Watch your tongue."

  Samuel rolled his eyes.

  "You know," Matilyn said, "I've never asked, but do you believe? In the Gods?"

  "How could I not?" Samuel said, staring at her. "The Gods gave us Richard Sullivan. They gave us a chance for world-wide peace and equality. Of course I believe."

  Matilyn felt a little foolish for asking but shrugged.

  "Anyway," Samuel said, "like I was saying, I don't have a gift for you. Not a material one anyway. But I thought maybe that my belief in you, in us, and the Good King's work, I thought maybe that might be enough."