"We know," Rafinnel said, "We know that you ordered your men to kill people that held no place in this war, citizens and trainees. We know that you tried to duel Samuel Frien, and failed. We know that you had a chance to kill Matilyn Malevus and instead let her walk away."
Stini felt his face flood with color. He wondered which of his men had been reporting to the battle-master. He put his money on Carl Cox. "I didn't let her walk away," he said, "If you've ever fought Malevus in a sword fight, you'd know what I'm talking about. The woman is fast, faster than she has any right to be."
He left out the part where he hadn't gone after her. He'd been too busy mourning Rose.
"Nobody is blaming you," Rafinnel said, once again putting a hand on Stini's shoulder, "But you have to understand that we know what is going on here, and we had to make the decision based on what is right for Arinford, not just best for your men."
"I understand," Stini said, "But I don't like it."
"Nobody is asking you to," Rafinnel said, "The Gods know that none of us like what is going on here, Commander. But we have a war to fight and we need our men committed. Are you committed?"
Stini swallowed back his anger and bitterness and nodded.
FIFTY-THREE
That Have the Power
PENNY SWALLOWED THE LUMP IN HER THROAT and made her way towards the exit of the caverns. She'd thought her plan over for a few days, but now was the moment where it would either work or fail. She had to be brave.
She heard Eldrin calling her name but ignored him. She had to leave while her courage was still high. She let herself out the next door as well and then through the cellar and upstairs.
Mike was at his counter, looking bored, when she stepped into the front room. "What are you doing?" he demanded. His eyes swept over the area, suddenly nervous.
Penny smiled, "Thank you, Mike, for everything that you've done. I have something I need to do now, but I appreciate all the help you've given me."
"What are you saying?" Mike asked, suddenly looking frightened. It was an odd look for him.
"Say a prayer for this city," Penny said gently. She'd never felt so calm, so removed. "Tell Craig to stay put."
Without another word, she left the store. The sun was bright overhead. Penny strolled lazily down the street, enjoying it. After her time in the cell and then the immediate sprint to the cellar, she'd gotten very little time outdoors. She had forgotten how wonderful the feel of sunlight on your face could be. She remembered at time when she'd enjoyed wine more than this. She wished she'd taken time to appreciate the sun a bit more instead.
When she got close to the soldiers' stations, Penny took a deep breath and told herself that she was doing the right thing. She could have no doubt if she wanted this to work.
There was a soldier sitting outside on a log, whittling. When he glanced up and saw who was approaching him, he jumped into action, aiming the knife at her, "Belmonte!"
"There's no reason to scream," Penny said quietly, "I am a lady. I would like to turn myself in."
The soldier seemed suspicious for a moment but he was obviously very young and very eager to prove himself. He quickly approached her and then yanked her arms behind her back, "You are going to make me one popular man, Lady."
Penny let him drag her to the center of the stations. He called out for support the entire time. Soon there were dozens of soldiers surrounding her.
"Why would you turn yourself in?" Peter Sterling asked. He gave her a sad look.
Meeting his eyes calmly, Penny shook her head. "I have heard nothing but how people are being tortured and hurt for information about my whereabouts. I can no longer live with the burden of knowing that I am causing harm to the people that I love."
Peter sighed, "Well, I can't very well put you back in that jail cell after escaped. Put her in my tent. Tie her there."
That night, Eldrin showed up in front of the chair in the tent, "I'm getting you out of here, don't worry."
Penny glared at Eldrin, shaking her head fiercely. He frowned and tugged the gag down, "What?"
"You can't rescue me," she said quickly, "and you have get out before the commander gets back. You're about to ruin everything."
Eldrin stared at her incredulously, "You're about to get tortured, raped, or killed, and you want me to leave you here?"
"Eldrin, don't worry."
Eldrin glared at her, "You're insane, Penny. They're going to make what happened to Marcus Satter look like nothing."
She shook her head, "When they were talking, they discussed how they were going to call a public execution for tomorrow. Everyone who doesn't show will be branded as a traitor to Lamonte and executed. They are going to tell everyone that I was sneaking out of town and they caught me. You can't very well sell that story with a tortured person. The commander told everyone not to touch me. Peter wouldn't do that anyway."
Eldrin looked less sure than ever, "You want to get executed?"
Penny smiled, "I have a plan."
"Are you going to share?" he asked, sounding angry, "Because you seem a little crazy from where I'm sitting."
Penny met his gaze calmly, "Are we friends, Eldrin?" Once he'd hesitantly nodded, she smiled, "Then trust me. Get out."
"Look," Eldrin said, "There's something you should know, Penny."
Penny shook her head. Part of her wanted to hear it, and the rest of her knew it wasn't the right time, "Tell me tomorrow," she said, "Tell me after, Eldrin."
With a curse, Eldrin yanked her gag back up and glared at her for a long moment. Then he turned and quickly slipped out of the tent.
Penny let out a sigh of relief and then slumped down in the chair, hoping to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
"Listen to me," Eldrin said, standing in front of all those that had gathered in the underground area beneath Mike's shop. "Penny has turned herself in."
There was an immediate outcry from the crowd. There was crying, yelling, and confusion.
"Stop it," Eldrin said after a moment. His voice rang out over the crowd. Solemn faces turned back to him. "She turned herself in," he said in a calm voice, "because this resistance isn't enough. We can't act alone."
"Why would she turn herself in for that?" Chrissa called out, "That doesn't make sense. She's our leader. We can't recruit without her."
Eldrin sighed, "This is why she did it," he said. "Because people are relying on her instead of themselves. They're following her, not the cause. She believes her execution may start a real revolt."
"But," Eldrin said, before anyone could start speaking again, "We're not going to let her die tomorrow. Do you hear me? We have a chance to save her, but we're going to have to work together, right now, and we're going to have to start planning this very second. Now, who's with me?"
He was relieved at the sound of approval the resistance sent up. The rest of the city might not care but these men sure did.
Catherine entered the throne room of the Lamonte castle with all of her men behind her. A few guards tried to stop them, but she spread her arms out and they flew to the side, the wind knocked out of them. Doors flew open before her.
Her father was where she'd expected him, on his throne. They stared at each other for what felt like centuries.
Then Sullivan rose, "Catherine. Oliver. What is the meaning of this? Why are you here?"
"You are too weak to rule Cartharia," Catherine said, her voice high and cold. It resonated through the entire room. She could hear guards coming but her men, Oliver included, stepped up to stop them. "You have no stomach for power or for rule."
"What are you talking about?" Sullivan said. He took a step towards her. In the background, she could hear steel against steel. Her men against his. She did as she'd always practiced, and breathed, and then released all emotion as she let the breath out.
"I've come to kill you, Father."
Sullivan raised a hand, and suddenly there was fire shooting towards her. Catherine hadn't expected a fight, but she r
ealized that she should have known better than to believe her father would go down without one. He'd made it this far, after all.
She dropped to the floor and rolled out of the way. Even as she was rising, she was attempting her own fire manipulation. She didn't bother with a fireball in the air though, instead attempting to just combust him.
Nothing happened.
"Did you really think it would be so easy?" Sullivan asked, stepping towards her, "Did you really believe I was that unprepared? I have taken precautions to guard myself since I found out the Priests were fighting for Arinford.
"You are a child," Sullivan continued. Catherine was still struggling to find her Chakran, to do anything. Her men couldn't help her now; they were all too busy fighting his. She was on her own.
"You are a child," he repeated, "My child, but a child nonetheless. You have no idea what I have done in this war, Catherine. Did you really believe that the priests that switched sides did so willingly? No... that peace you feel, when you call upon your inner will, that peace that you call Chakran?"
He paused, and reached out, taking her hands. Catherine struggled against him, but he was stronger, and then suddenly, he threw her into a wall. Catherine hit it with a sickening thud, and felt her head begin to swim. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
Nothing was going like she planned.
Sullivan was angry, angrier than she'd ever seen him, and he was approaching her again, "It's not just an inner will," he said, "it's a center of faith. Did you learn that while you were off killing King Sanders? Did you realize what we use it for? How we've learned to twist it?"
He didn't hit her, or throw her again. He stood over her, breathing. Suddenly, Catherine felt herself calming. Her eyes were glazing over, and she could do nothing about it. Her mind was changing on her own, twisting.
He was right, she realized. He was the King. He was good.
"That's right," Sullivan said. He offered her a hand, "What you're feeling now, that's what we can do to the priests that fight us. It's how we can change their positions -- those that don't come willingly, that is.
"You are a child, Catherine, and it's hardly your fault that you don't know this, but the you're going to kill a king, you must take the time to think of every situation."
Even though he was telling her what he was doing, using that inner peace against her, Catherine could do nothing. She still felt herself agreeing, nodding along with his words. She took his hand and came to her feet.
"I'm sorry," he told her. He pulled her into a hug. It felt nice, warm, fatherly. "I'm sorry, Catherine, but I'm going to have to have you executed. It's such a shame, but you've done so much damage now. My poor, sweet child."
Catherine felt the embrace and then slowly, the feeling faded. That twisted, sick sense of loyalty evaporated. "But you forgot something," she whispered into her father's ear, "You forgot something, father."
She dropped a hand to his waist, and had his dagger out in seconds. Before he could move back, or react, she'd plunged it deeply into his side.
Sullivan stumbled back, his face white with shock, "How?"
"Your Priests, they feel," Catherine said. She watched the way his blood trickled out of his side, "Me? I care about one thing, and one thing only."
She stepped forward, as she had with so many of her lovers, and then plunged the dagger deep into his chest, "I care about my place in this world," she said, "and that is as it's Queen."
Then she shoved him backwards, and as his body toppled to the floor, she went to the throne, and took the place that had been meant for her from the start.
FIFTY-FOUR
The Stars are Fire
WILL SAT HUDDLED AGAINST A TREE, HIS arms around his legs. He was tired, cold, and scared. He'd often been these things when he was traveling with Sean and Janice, but he'd forgotten what it was like to feel lonely.
It was as though he was back in Sullivan's castle dungeons all over again. He could move around this time, but he wasn't any safer or freer. He'd escaped the men that had originally captured him because Sean had risked his life to give him that opportunity. He couldn't waste it. But they kept coming. They kept hunting him. He knew they were out there, somewhere, waiting for him.
Will sighed. He just wanted to go home. He'd almost forgotten what home was like, it had been so long. He couldn't seem to find home, though. He'd been out in the forest for weeks without Sean and Janice, by himself. He'd gotten lost somehow.
It didn't make sense. He'd always been good with directions. He should have been able to find his way out of the forest. He shouldn't be so lost. The soldiers had come but they hadn't caught him. He'd run away from them for hours on end. He was sure he'd hit Westwood but it had never happened. The landscape had become increasingly unfamiliar.
The food became more plentiful. There was that, at last. There was plenty of wildlife this far from Valishna. He'd been able to gain back some of the weight he'd lost since first joining Sullivan's prisoners. Will was extremely grateful that Janice had taught him how to hunt, and that Sean had taught him who to cook the meat he'd caught.
Going to sleep was the hardest thing. Will laid down, closing his eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to stop worrying. If he chose the wrong spot, they'd find him. He wouldn't even know what happened before they'd have a sack over his head, dragging him back to Sullivan. Back to the rats. Back to Catherine.
"Skavadiruetaph. Skavadiruetaph... please hear me."
At first, Will thought he was imagining the voice. He told himself the soldiers could find him and now his mind was playing tricks on him, appealing to his fear. There was nobody there. He hadn't seen soldiers in at least a week.
"Skavadiruetaph, please awaken, please."
He opened his eyes, his hand clutching onto the dagger he'd placed near him when he went to sleep.
"You are alright," the voice said. When his eyes had adjusted, Will nearly gasped in shock. Standing above him was a woman. She was like no woman he had ever seen; she was thin, and willowy, with long limbs. Her skin was incredibly pale, almost translucent, and seemed to emit a light glow. Her hair was long and white, flowing to her waist. Her eyes were large, wide, blue, and speckled with bits of violet. She was dressed in a thin pair of leather trousers with a white collared shirt and sandals. The outfits seemed to glow with the same soft light as she.
And right now, she seemed to be the most delighted person in the world.
Will scooted back and then leaped to his feet, his hand clutched around his dagger tightly. He tried to draw his eyes from the woman but couldn't.
"Do not be frightened," she said in the same, soft, sing-song voice, "I will not hurt you."
"Who are you?" Will whispered, "What are you?"
"I am Skavadivoxtari," the woman said simply, "My home calls me Lieiki."
"Lieiki," Will repeated. He stared at her, his mind trying frantically to keep up with the situation.
Lieiki nodded.
"What do you want?" Will asked. He kept his dagger tightly gripped, preparing for an attack.
"I came to help you," she said in that same simple tone. She tilted her head to the side, "I am Skavadivoxtari. This is my responsibility."
"What's that mean?" Will asked, frowning, "Wait, you want to help me? Get me home to my father?"
Lieiki blinked at him and then laughed in a high, tilted way, "No, Skavadiruetaph. Your place is not in this Kingdom. You must come home with me. Cartharia needs you, now. We have been waiting for you."
"What are you talking about?" Will asked. He wondered briefly if he was dreaming, "What are you calling me?"
"You know what I speak of," Lieiki said, the corners of her mouth pulling down into a frown, "You dreamt of it when you were young and we dreamt of you. You have dreamt again of those memories. Think and you will remember. Your duty is not in the Kingdom. Your duty belongs to all of Cartharia."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Will exclaimed. He realized he was close to come unhinged
. Everything else, he'd handled, but this -- this might just be too much.
Lieiki took a step closer, "You are Skavadiruetaph. You belong with the Skavadi. You found us, after all. We will help you understand your duty. You are young but you will have time to learn."
"I'm not going with you," Will said, "I don't even know what you're -- I don't understand what's going on."
"You have to," Lieiki said, "Cartharia will not survive without you."
"I don't understand!" Will screamed this at her, frantically backing away.
Lieiki shook her head solemnly, "Do not run, Skavadiruetaph. You know that you belong with us. You found us. Close your eyes. Remember your dream. You were but a baby."
Will hesitated and then did as she requested. Immediately his mind was filled with vivid images. Fires that engulfed entire continents, waves that crashed against villages until they were full of water, large chasms that opened beneath farms... rains, and winds, and chaos. He screamed against it, hands hands coming up to grip his hair. His dagger fell to the ground. Will sunk to his knees, trying to stop the images from coming. They felt so real, and so familiar. They were from his dreams. But he was awake.
Children were dying, their skin melting off their bodies. Men and women were screaming out for each other, lost in the darkness of night. Large animals ravaged helpless woman as they lay over their babies, trying to protecting them. Large structures forced themselves over graves, and the air grew black and heavy.
People fell down, dying on the streets, blood ran in rivers, sisters cried out for their brothers, and men fought each other in rings, bloodying their bodies beyond belief. This is what had been plaguing him for so long. This is what he'd shown Janice, and then Sean.
"Skavadiruetaph, do you remember?" Lieiki's voice floated to him, concerned, and this seemed to break the spell over him.
"What happened?" Will asked, opening his eyes and gasping for air, "What was that? I was awake! I shouldn't dream while awake!"
Revolution (Cartharia Book 2) Page 53
