The Magelands Epic: Storm Mage (Book 6)

by Christopher Mitchell

  Bracken said nothing. She was only six thirds younger than Thorn, but had never been anywhere or done anything interesting. Almost no one in the village had, except for Thorn and her family. Bracken and everyone else were content with their lot because they knew no better; how much harder it was for Thorn, who had glimpsed a view of the wider world, and yet had to go back to the far-flung corner of Sanang, to live out her life healing illiterate peasants.

  ‘It’s Oakleaf’s birthday soon,’ Bracken said. ‘What are you wearing to her party?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’d forgotten all about it.’

  ‘Yeah, me too; I mean, until a couple of the girls mentioned it at work this morning.’

  ‘Will there be anything to drink?’

  ‘No,’ Bracken said. ‘Her mother’s going to be there the whole time.’

  Thorn smiled. ‘I think I’ll give it a miss.’

  ‘But.. yeah, me too.’

  ‘You go if you want to,’ Thorn said. ‘Darecht will probably be there. It might be the last time you get to see him before he’s married off and making babies.’

  Bracken flushed.

  ‘Of course,’ Thorn went on, ‘his mother will probably be there too, to make sure his kilt stays down, and to protect him from wandering hands.’

  ‘That ugly old bitch? I hate her.’

  ‘Maybe best if you don’t go, then.’

  Bracken nodded.

  Thorn threw the finished dreamweed stick over the edge of the platform, where it disappeared in the grey haze of rain. She stared at the dark, angry clouds. It was the first day of winter, a holiday, or at least it was in Broadwater and the empire, where things were more civilised. There were three, maybe four more thirds of rain to go before spring took hold and the land began to slowly dry out. She had spent four winters in Greyfalls Deepen since her family had returned from the court of the Matriarch, and each one had scarred her memories and pushed her closer to breaking.

  Everyone else in the village treated it as normal and got on with their lives during the rainy season. She had herself, before the family had moved to Broadwater, though she possessed no memory of that time. Perhaps if they hadn’t gone east, Thorn would be like the others, and accept the winter rains with a gentle shrug.

  But she wasn’t like the others.

  ‘Thorn!’ cried a voice.

  Bracken and Thorn peered through the hatch leading to the rope ladder. Halfway down the tree was another platform, and on it stood Thorn’s eldest sister, Clove.

  ‘Get down here, girl,’ Clove called up, her face wearing a deep scowl.

  Bracken giggled, though her eyes were shot with fear. Thorn frowned, then slid her legs over the edge of the hatch and gripped the ladder as it swung against the thick trunk.

  ‘You too, Bracken,’ she heard Clove say as she climbed down. ‘Your mother wants you.’

  The anger was visible on Clove’s face as Thorn jumped the last few feet and stood before her.

  ‘You stupid girl!’ she yelled at Thorn. ‘I’m not covering for you this time.’

  ‘You never cover for me.’

  Bracken landed on the platform next to them and Clove shot her a glare. ‘You two are in serious pigshit. Your mothers will be furious when they find out what you’ve been up to.’

  She smiled, though her eyes betrayed her rage, then began climbing down from the platform. Thorn and Bracken shared a glance, and followed.

  Clove led them along the covered walkways through the village towards the longhouse where their families lived. Bracken’s mother and Thorn’s mother had been best friends since childhood, and the two families had shared the same house for four years. Along with Bracken’s younger brother, that had meant five children under the same roof since Thorn’s family had returned from Broadwater.

  The timber longhouse consisted of five rooms occupying a single storey. One half of the building was taken up with a large communal space, where food was prepared and eaten, and where the family could gather to pass the long, dark evenings by the hearth. The four other rooms were where the family slept. The two mothers shared the room nearest the communal area, and Thorn’s sisters had the next one down the hallway. At the end of the house, the two smallest rooms were left for the three youngest children. Bracken’s brother had his own room, while Thorn and his sister shared the other.

  Forest trees were integrated into the structure of the building, acting as supports for the roof beams and lending an asymmetry to the house common to the other buildings in the village. Also like many, the roof of the house had been turfed, and an internal ladder led up to the families’ private garden, where in the summer thirds they would sit in the evenings, enjoying the cool air.

  Thorn remained silent during the walk home, her mind playing and replaying the possible ways the impending conversation with her mother would turn out. Bracken’s mother was a different problem altogether. Thorn knew the woman disliked her and thought she was a terrible influence on her daughter; little did she realise that Bracken possessed her own twisted sense of fun independent from Thorn’s, and that the girl needed no encouragement from her roommate to misbehave.

  They turned up a side street, laid out with detached longhouses, each based on the same layout, but all unique in their design and decoration. Bright flowers in neat patterns were spread in low beds in front of the houses, as even in winter the villagers prided themselves on the beauty of Greyfalls Deepen. Clove hesitated as they saw a group of older women standing outside their house, dressed in the long, flowing robes of the village council.

  ‘What are they doing here?’ said Thorn.

  Clove glared at her. ‘How should I know?’

  ‘Is it because of us?’ whispered Bracken, her left eye twitching.

  Clove snorted. ‘I hardly think the village chiefs would come round because of your misdemeanours.’

  One of the robed women noticed them approach.

  ‘Girls,’ she nodded, a half-smile on her wrinkled lips.

  Clove bowed her head. ‘Ma’am.’

  ‘We were just leaving,’ the old woman said. ‘I’m sure those inside will tell you all about it.’

  The other village chiefs nodded their greetings and the small group set off, heading towards the centre of the village.

  Clove frowned and went up to the front door, passing between the flower beds. She opened the door and entered, as Thorn and Bracken paused by the roadside.

  ‘Should we run for it?’ said Thorn.

  Bracken gulped, her eyes shining in fear.

  ‘Maybe not, then,’ Thorn said, and approached the door, Bracken following behind.

  A fire was roaring in the hearth of the large hall that took up the left half of the house. Sitting on the long, cushioned benches to either side were five women: their mothers, and three others the same age, who wore robes of a different shade, one Thorn recognised from her time at the court of the Matriarch.

  ‘Ahh, girls,’ said Thorn’s mother, ‘you’re home. Come and see our visitors.’

  Thorn glanced at Clove, who was standing with a dark look on her face, clearly unsure if she should start relating what she and Bracken had been up to that day. Thorn relaxed. If her mother knew anything, she would wait until the guests were gone before losing her temper; she would never dare embarrass the family name by holding a row in front of delegates sent by the Matriarch, if that was who they were.

  She gave a graceful curtsy before their guests, a smile on her face, and was rewarded with smiles in return from the older women.

  ‘This is Thorn,’ said her mother, ‘my youngest. And that’s Clove next to her. She’s just turned twenty-one, and has the makings of a fine hedgewitch.’

  ‘We hear all your daughters do, Lady Ivy,’ said one of the women, who seemed by the way she held herself to be in charge.

  ‘Yes,’ said her mother, beaming with pride.

  ‘It’s quite a family.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Thorn noticed Bracken standi
ng next to them, her head lowered. ‘And this is Bracken,’ she said. ‘She lives here too.’

  ‘She’s Lichen’s daughter,’ Thorn’s mother said, gesturing to the woman sitting next to her, who was sitting with suspicion in her eyes, her hands folded across her lap.

  ‘How lovely to meet you all,’ the delegate said. ‘Is there one still missing?’

  ‘Acorn,’ said Thorn’s mother, ‘my middle daughter. Little Bertrang, Lichen’s son, is tucked up in bed in his room.’ She glanced over at the children. ‘Come, sit. Don’t stand there looking so awestruck. Our guests may have come all the way from the Matriarch to see us, but I’m sure they won’t bite.’

  Thorn stepped forward and took a seat on the bench to the right of her mother, while Clove perched on the other end, a scowl on her face. Thorn suppressed a laugh. Her sister seemed enraged by the situation preventing her from telling their mother about Thorn’s misbehaviour, and Thorn took great satisfaction from her discomfort. Bracken found a seat by her mother, but kept her eyes lowered.

  ‘Now that most of you are gathered,’ the chief delegate said, ‘we will tell you the purpose of our visit. The Matriarch remembers your family well, and has always appreciated the years of service you gave to her in Broadwater. You, Lady Ivy, are a renowned healer and hedgewitch, and to have mothered three daughters with the same skills is nothing short of a marvel.’

  Thorn’s mother flushed, while Lichen’s frown deepened.

  ‘When you attended the court of the Matriarch, Lady Ivy,’ the delegate went on, ‘you will have become familiar with the relationship between Sanang and the wider empire, and I’m sure you’re aware of the aid Empress Bridget provided to us when the rebel Sons of Sanang were raiding this nation. Without the imperial troops sent by her Majesty, the conflict would have ground on for much longer, and countless more lives would have been lost.’

  ‘Is the empire calling in a favour?’ said Lichen, her eyes tight.

  ‘You might say so,’ said the delegate, ‘but I prefer to say that both the empire and Sanang benefit when each helps the other.’

  ‘What do they want?’

  ‘I’ll get to that shortly, Madam Lichen.’ The delegate turned back to Ivy. ‘You may be unaware that the empire was invaded at the end of spring, by a great army sent by the renegade nation of Rahain. The Empress has predicted heavy casualties will result from the effort to throw out the invader, and has formally requested the Matriarchy lend assistance.’

  Lichen squinted at the woman. ‘What kind of assistance?’

  The delegate sat back on the bench. ‘Healers.’

  The room fell into silence. Thorn glanced over the faces of those present, taking in their reactions. As the delegate was about to speak, the front door of the house opened and Acorn walked in, a cloak wrapped round her. Her eyes landed on Thorn.

  ‘You,’ she said. ‘We need to have words.’

  She strode over to the hearth, then paused as she noticed the three guests sitting on the bench by the fire.

  ‘Whatever it is, Acorn,’ their mother said, ‘it’ll have to wait. Sit down and be quiet, our guests were speaking.’

  Acorn shared a quick glance with Clove, and sat down by her sister. Clove nodded at the guests.

  ‘They want healers,’ she said, ‘for the empire.’

  ‘The Matriarch has promised twelve,’ said the chief delegate, ‘and I must confess, that is why we are here on Winter’s Day, many thirds after the Empress’s request reached the Matriarch. We have been touring the western regions of Sanang, finding our volunteers.’

  ‘And how many are you short?’ said Lichen.

  The woman’s expression deadened. ‘Four.’

  ‘But there are only five hedgewitches in this village,’ said Ivy.

  ‘”Only five”?’ the delegate laughed. ‘There are far bigger settlements than Greyfalls Deepen that make do with a single healer to administer to their needs. Five is a luxury that this town has been blessed with for over four years.’

  Thorn felt her heart start to swell as the adults talked. The empire? She dared not hope too much, in case fate, or her mother conspired to keep her in the village.

  ‘The Matriarch asks for your service, Lady Ivy,’ the delegate went on, ‘and for the service of your daughters. You will accomplish great things, bringing renown and honour to the Matriarch and to all Sanang. The same empire that lost soldiers ridding us of the Sons of Sanang, now asks us to help heal their wounded. Where the old Sanang sent warriors to ravage the Plateau, the Matriarch will send hedgewitches to heal their sons and daughters, thus binding our peoples closer together. For what reason does the empire exist if not to keep the peace and lend assistance to those in need? When we required help, Empress Bridget provided it. Should Sanang be known as a nation that refuses to help those who help us?’

  ‘If the Matriarch asks it,’ said Ivy, ‘then me and my girls will not refuse.’

  ‘What?’ said Lichen. ‘Do you know what this means? You’ll be gone for thirds, maybe years, sent into war on the Plateau.’ Her eyes softened. ‘You remember war, don’t you?’

  Ivy’s face fell for a moment, but her eyes remained set.

  ‘What you say is true, Madam Lichen,’ the delegate said. ‘The company of volunteer hedgewitches will leave Sanang and travel to where they are needed, and will be gone some time. But there they will be saving the lives of the young soldiers defending the empire from the hordes of fanatical Rahain that mean to destroy the peace the Empress has brought to us all. To my mind, that is a noble thing; a courageous thing.’

  Ivy glanced at Lichen. ‘You must come too.’

  ‘I can’t leave Bertrang alone, and I can’t take him.’

  ‘Can Bracken come?’ said Thorn.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Acorn. ‘Do we not get a say?’

  Clove frowned. ‘I’ll do it.’

  Acorn raised an eyebrow. ‘I need to think about all of this.’

  ‘If Thorn’s going,’ said Bracken, ‘then I want to go too.’

  ‘Hold your tongue, girl,’ said Lichen. ‘I’ll be the judge of that.’

  The chief delegate cleared her throat. ‘Perhaps we should be going. We’ll leave you all to discuss the arrangements.’

  The delegates stood.

  ‘Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Ivy, Madam Lichen.’

  Ivy got to her feet.

  ‘We shall see you in the village hall tomorrow morning,’ said the chief delegate, bowing her head.

  The visitors left the house, closing the door behind them. For a moment the large living area was silent.

  ‘Sounds like fun,’ said Thorn, watching for the reactions of the others.

  ‘Fun?’ said Clove. ‘You’ve a twisted idea of fun.’

  ‘She’s got a twisted idea of most things,’ said Acorn. ‘Now, about this afternoon. I told you to be back in ten minutes, and what happened? You abandoned me in the healing hall, and left me to cover the rest of your shift.’

  ‘Is that true?’ said their mother.

  ‘And she got Bracken out of work,’ said Clove, ‘by lying about a fake injury to Bertrang.’

  ‘What?’ said Lichen.

  Thorn smiled. ‘The truth is that Acorn told me to go away and not come back until I’d calmed down. I needed time, and Bracken, to do that. You know how sensitive I am, mother, I needed to…’

  ‘You selfish little brat,’ said Clove.

  ‘Wait,’ said their mother. ‘Acorn, is that what you said to Thorn?’

  Acorn’s cheeks flushed. ‘Yes.’

  Their mother shook her head. ‘You foolish girl. What did you think was going to happen? It was like giving her an invitation to take the day off.’

  Thorn turned to her sisters, her eyes lowered. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you both. I’ll try harder, I promise.’

  Ivy nodded.

  ‘And you?’ said Lichen to her daughter. ‘What do you have to say for yourself?’

  ‘Sorry,’ mumbled
Bracken.

  ‘Good,’ said Ivy. ‘Well, that’s that sorted.’

  ‘What?’ said Clove. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘You’re too soft on Thorn,’ said Acorn.

  Ivy shrugged. ‘Girls will be girls.’

  Thorn suppressed a smirk. ‘Thank you, mother.’ She turned to Lichen. ‘May Bracken come with us when we go to the Plateau, please? She’s my best friend and I’d be lonely without her.’

  Lichen frowned.

  ‘I still think we should all go,’ said Ivy.

  ‘Bertrang’s far too young, and it might be dangerous. And I don’t want him missing a year of school.’

  Ivy’s eyes darkened. ‘We’ll talk about this later.’

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ said Thorn.

  ‘But you’ve not eaten,’ said her mother. ‘Lichen made a mushroom broth.’

  ‘I’m not hungry. I’m too excited about going to the Plateau.’

  Her mother laughed. ‘It’ll be a while yet before we reach the Plateau. We’ll have to get organised first, and then we’ll need to pay our respects to the Matriarch in Broadwater along the way. It’ll be spring before we arrive at the imperial capital.’

  Thorn’s eyes lit up as she listened, and she was unable to stop a broad grin take hold of her face.

  ‘Look at her,’ said Lichen. ‘She has no idea what she’s heading into. None of you girls do. You’ve lived a sheltered life of peace and prosperity, the like of which hasn’t been seen in Sanang for centuries. Ivy and I remember though, we lived through it when you were babes and toddlers, when the men all left to follow Keira the Firewitch and never returned.’

  ‘It’ll be good for them’ said Ivy. ‘Broaden their minds and toughen them up.’

  ‘War?’ said Lichen. ‘It gives me nightmares just thinking about it.’

  ‘Don’t worry, aunt,’ said Thorn. ‘If Bracken comes, I’ll look after her.’

  Lichen frowned. ‘That’s what worries me.’