Revolution (Cartharia Book 2)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  Michael Romsey. He'd been a trash man before. Eldrin had seen him a few times when he was younger cleaning up garbage off the side of the roads. He was another person who had a hard streak. He'd squashed it with alcohol before, drowning out his worries with whiskey. Eldrin had convinced him to harness it instead and hone it for his own personal use.

  They were the only two he'd be taking with him. The rest of them still had too much to learn.

  Once Eldrin was dressed, he made himself some eggs. He didn't have a lot of food in the house, or the coin to buy them, but he'd learned how to scavenge. There was a farm house with a bunch of chickens. It had been abandoned but the previous owner had left the feed where the birds could find it, and they'd survived.

  Eldrin had found the rest of the food, and he started each morning by feeding them, and taking their eggs. He didn't think of it as stealing.

  After his breakfast, he spent a few hours working out. This included everything from crunches and pushups to running a few miles. By the time he was done, he was sweaty and nice and alert.

  He thought about paying Penny a visit before his scheduled activity but easily dismissed the idea. He didn't want her to think he was too reliant on her company. She already knew they weren't friends -- not like they used to be, at least. He didn't want to get her hopes up that their relationship was going to change. He wasn't planning on sticking around once the city had been taken.

  Eldrin hadn't quite worked out yet where he was going to go, but he didn't like all the ghosts in the city. Everywhere he went was a constant reminder of Matilyn or his family or his old life. He couldn't come back from the things he'd done, and part of him didn't want to.

  Maybe he could find Five. Five was the one who lived, Five who'd never really gotten along with him, Five who'd disappeared.

  Instead of paying Penny a visit, Eldrin wandered the town a bit, slipping into the shadows whenever he saw a soldier.

  Once he'd wasted enough of the day doing nothing, he went to meet Alison and Michael in an abandoned building close to where they'd find Satter.

  Alison showed up first. She was dressed in loose fitting clothing, and had her dark hair tied up in a ponytail. She offered a little mocking salute when she saw him. "Craig."

  "Alison."

  She stretched a bit, and then approached him. "Today's the day, huh? Where things really begin?"

  Eldrin nodded. "Are you ready for this? Because if you're not, you need to tell me now. There's not going to be time to back out later."

  "I'm ready," Alison said. She showed Eldrin the knife on her hip. "I've never felt more ready."

  "Good," Eldrin said. "Now we just need Michael."

  It turns out they didn't have to wait long. Michael showed up a few minutes later. Like Alison, he had a knife on his hip. Eldrin was pleased. He knew they'd both been training to use swords, but both had realized without him saying a word that it would be to conspicuous if they showed up with real weaponry.

  The three of them stared at each other for a few minutes.

  "Are you sober?" Eldrin asked Michael.

  Michael nodded, unoffended by the question.

  Eldrin nodded, "It's almost time to move," he said. "Let's go get in position."

  It took all of three minutes for them to get into position. Eldrin took the lead, shepherding them to a spot near the outhouse where Marcus Satter would soon be inhabiting.

  Michael looked a little nervous about what they were about to do, but to Eldrin's surprise, Alison looked ready. Eager, even. He'd seen the look before, but he'd never have imagined it from a primary school teacher. That hard streak.

  They waited in silence. A few minutes passed and Eldrin wondered what they'd do if Satter didn't show. It wouldn't fit his pattern, but anything was possible. He might get called into an emergency meeting, or get assigned an extra shift with the citizens' patrol.

  Eldrin knew they couldn't just leave him. If he didn't show, they'd have to track him down. It would be easy enough. It might not be so easy to take him if he was with others, but he was sure he could do it. He just wasn't sure that Michael and Alison were ready for that.

  Then, that hard streak. Michael's nervousness seemed to shrink with every minute that passed and Alison had that look. He'd done well, choosing them. They'd be fine.

  It didn't matter though. Right on time, Satter came into the outhouse. They heard the door close and heard the sounds of him taking down his pants.

  It wasn't going to be pretty, what they'd be doing. Taking a man while he was doing his daily business seemed especially cruel. But Eldrin knew it was necessary. He had to make sure this resistance worked, and that meant getting his hands dirty.

  Better his than Penny's.

  "Come on," he said.

  This time, he allowed Alison out front. He wanted to see what she could do.

  She led them to the outhouse, and quickly looked around. Just like always, nobody was there.

  She hesitated outside the door. Eldrin waited patiently. They had some time. Not a lot, but enough for her to get past whatever her nerves were telling her. Michael reached forward, putting his hand on hers. He gave her a small nod.

  Alison flashed him a smile, a primal smile, and Eldrin felt his heart skip a beat. By Michael's face, his had too. Another time, another place, and the two of them might just have fallen for this woman with her loose clothing and hip knife.

  She pushed the door open.

  "What the hell?" Marcus Satter's voice rang out loudly.

  Before he could say more, the three of them crowded into the outhouse. Alison had her knife out and ready. "One word," she said, "And I'll stab you right there where you're proudest. Understand?"

  Sutter nodded. He looked confused, and angry.

  Eldrin nodded to Michael. Michael grabbed the bag they'd brought and yanked it down over Satter's head.

  "Stand up, get your pants on," Alison demanded.

  "You can't do this," Satter said.

  Alison brought her knee up suddenly, right into his groin, "I told you not to talk," she said over the sounds of his wail of misery, "Next time, it's the knife."

  Sutter struggled to stand up straight, his fingers fumbling around for his pants. He yanked them up.

  Eldrin grabbed one shoulder, Michael the other. Alison followed behind, keeping her knife pressed firmly into his back.

  Eldrin was prepared for someone to see them, prepared to act, but luck seemed to be on their side. Nobody was around. They led him to an abandoned shack not far from Eldrin's old home.

  Once they were there, Eldrin slammed him down into a chair. Michael brought out the rope they'd stored and tied his arms and legs tightly to it. Alison yanked the bag off his head.

  "You're going to pay for this," Satter said immediately, "You think you can get away with this? I'm a soldier in the Good King's army."

  "You're a brute serving a tyrant," Alison said, "and that's why you're going to die today. But first, your crimes."

  Eldrin unrolled a scroll of paper, "Murder," he began.

  "I didn't murder anyone," Satter said.

  "How about all the people in Valishna during the attack?" Michael demanded, "My brother was one of them."

  "And my sister," Alison chimed in.

  "This is war," Satter said, "Casualties happen in wartime. Everyone knows that. It wasn't nothing personal."

  Eldrin didn't respond but both Alison and Michael were glaring at Satter. "Assault," he read next, "Both physical and verbal."

  Satter grunted. He didn't try and dispute that charge. Everyone knew how violent the soldiers were.

  "Attempted rape," Eldrin said.

  "The fuck are you talking about?" Satter demanded. When Eldrin didn't respond, he said, "If you're killing me for my crimes, I think I deserve a bit of an explanation. What are you saying?"

  Eldrin sighed. "There was a woman," he said, "You tried to force her, out on the beach. I put a knife through your hand."

  Satter's eyes widened,
"I knew I recognized you," he howled, "So that's what this is? Revenge for your little girlfriend?"

  "No," Eldrin said coolly, "This is justice for all the people you've abused. This is justice for the men and women and children that you killed and for the others that you've terrorized. You are a criminal, and you will pay for your crimes."

  Satter shook his head in disgust, "You won't get away with this," he said again. "You think you will? Which of you is a law man?"

  "I was a Priest," Eldrin said, "and I am more than happy to take the moral responsibility for passing the judgement. You are to be executed for your crimes. Alison?"

  Alison stepped forward. She had her knife ready. Michael stepped forward to, and grabbed Satter's hair. He yanked his head backwards, exposing the man's neck.

  When Satter realized what was going to happen, he began to struggle, "You can't do this!"

  But apparently, they could. Alison slit his throat without a moment's hesitation. Dark red blood gushed out, staining the front of his clothing, and getting all over Alison. She didn't seem to notice. She took the knife and shoved it in his chest next, and then again, and then again.

  "That's for my sister, you bastard," she sang out, "and for the children."

  Before she could completely destroy his body, Eldrin grabbed her. She struggled against him, but eventually stopped, her chest heaving. She yanked herself out of his grip and he let her go.

  She ran into another room and Eldrin thought he heard a muffled sob. She had a hard streak, sure, but it was still her first. He'd vomited for his. The memory came back with startling clarity. He'd been with Matilyn... of course.

  He forced the thought out of his mind. There would be time for reminiscing later. Right now, he needed to focus on the current task at hand. Satter was dead but just like he told Penny, that wasn't enough. There was a lot more to get to. The day was really just beginning.

  THIRTY

  And By my Advice

  MATILYN AND SAMUEL SAT ACROSS FROM LORD Aaron Swin. Matilyn was acutely aware they were about to question the wealthiest man in Terifille. The thought made her feel slightly nervous, though she did her best not to show it.

  If Samuel felt the same, he didn't show it at all. He looked completely at ease. Matilyn reminded herself that he'd spent much more time in Lamonte court than she ever had. He was used to rubbing elbows with the elite.

  "You lied to us," Samuel said to Aaron.

  Aaron, who looked a lot like his daughter, met Samuel's gaze, "How so?"

  "You told us you weren't in the castle the night of Princess Catherine's attack," Samuel said, "We've recently discovered the falsity of this claim. We wanted to speak to you about it sooner but you'd left the city."

  "I had business to take care of," Aaron said.

  "That doesn't explain why you lied -- or what you were doing in the castle on that night," Samuel said.

  Aaron clasped his hands in front of me, "Am I an official suspect?"

  "We are pursuing all possibilities," Samuel said.

  "Does King Sanders believe I had a part in this attack?" Aaron asked.

  Samuel sighed. "I'll ask the questions. Why did you lie?"

  Aaron let out a low sigh, "I was meeting with someone."

  "Who?" Samuel asked.

  "I lied because I have no wish to share that information," Aaron said, "But I did not have any part in this attack upon the princess. I accepted that my family would not come to crown. I understood the king's reasoning and looked forward to the alliance between our two kingdoms."

  Samuel glanced at Matilyn. She leaned forward, "If you could tell us with whom you were meeting, it would go along way towards absolving you of any suspicion," she pointed out.

  "Matilyn Malevus," Aaron said gently, "I've heard your name before. You were a commander in the Arinford Guard."

  "That's right," Matilyn said.

  "What prompted you to switch allegiances?" Aaron asked.

  Matilyn blinked, "I was unaware of the Good King's true motives when I first joined the Guard," she explained, "but once Commander Frien explained them to me, I knew where my place within the war was."

  Aaron nodded. "My wife speaks very highly of you."

  "Why?" Matilyn asked, nonplussed.

  "She said you were the third youngest commander in Arinford's recent history."

  "Lord Swin," Matilyn said, struggling not to look overly pleased, "Who were you meeting with on the night of the attack?"

  "Perhaps," Aaron said, "The king wishes for me to inhabit one of his cells?" He raised an eyebrow.

  Samuel shook his head, "Of course not."

  "And what will become of me should I continue to ignore your questions?" Aaron asked.

  Matilyn sighed, "I don't understand why you're set on ignoring them," she said, "we could be done with this ugly business if you'd only be honest."

  "Did you hold any sort of title before your promotion?" Aaron asked.

  "No," Matilyn said.

  Aaron nodded, "Another reason my wife is impressed," he said, "It takes a rare person to ascend to such high ranking without any title to back them." He turned to Samuel, "You are the same, are you not? No title to support your promotion, just your own hard work?"

  Samuel nodded. "The Good King does not promote his commanders because of their birth, but because of their dedication to his cause."

  "As well he should," Aaron said, "When one begins to allow his military to be bought, he cannot be sure of loyalty."

  Samuel and Matilyn both stared at him, each trying to figure out how to get the subject back on track.

  "Still," Aaron said, "There is something to be said of the people who grew up learning the court's intricacies. They understand something that people who come from more simpler homes cannot wrap their heads around."

  "And what is that?" Samuel asked.

  "The need for privacy," Aaron said, "I have spent my life living up to my forefather's legacies, and building my own. I have kept my position in this kingdom because of my own intelligence and by knowing the rules of which are society are built on.

  "When one of your enemies has intimate knowledge of your affairs, you become weaker," he said, "and I have no intention of becoming weak. I am choosing not to answer your questions because I have no wish for my business to be spread about."

  "We're not going to spread your business about," Matilyn said quickly, "Whatever you say, it'll stay between the three of us. Right, Commander Frien?"

  Samuel nodded, "Of course. We wouldn't think to share your personal matters with anyone else."

  Aaron shrugged, "You say that now," he said, "but when the King asks, you will tell him where I was."

  Matilyn's brow furrowed, "You wish to keep your business a secret from the king?"

  "And," Aaron said, as though she hadn't said a word, "When Princess Catherine asks, I have little doubt that you'll share my business with her as well, if only to absolve me of guilt. She will, in turn, share it with Prince Oliver, and sooner or later, it will become public knowledge."

  Samuel sighed, "What could you have been doing that demands such privacy?"

  "I have no intention of answering that," Aaron said.

  Matilyn closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for patience. "You understand that we cannot accept your innocence on your word alone?"