The Magelands Epic: Storm Mage (Book 6)

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘Thanks. Cigarette?’

  Acorn smiled. ‘Do you think if you keep asking me, then one day I’ll say yes?’

  ‘That’s the plan.’

  ‘Never going to happen,’ Acorn said, taking a drink and handing the flagon to Bracken.

  Thorn gazed back at the harbour. ‘Thought you’d already taken a break this morning.’

  ‘They’re clearing space for a large group about to come in. I was just getting in the way.’

  ‘Shit,’ Thorn muttered. ‘Bad?’

  ‘The Rahain moved artillery up onto the south-eastern mountain last night, apparently,’ Acorn said, ‘and they hit a barracks and set it on fire. We’ve got about two dozen casualties on their way.’

  Thorn’s stomach churned, but she kept her face steady.

  ‘Mother told Clove to go home,’ Acorn went on.

  Thorn nodded.

  ‘I don’t feel well,’ said Bracken.

  Thorn turned to her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Bracken. ‘I’m only saying. I’m not trying to get out of it.’

  ‘Good,’ said Thorn, her gaze returning to the harbour. She watched as a newly arrived ship was tied up, and fresh soldiers began walking down the gangplanks onto the stone wharf. Officers were directing them over towards the centre of the harbour. Most of the young soldiers were Holdings, with a few Kellach sprinkled among them.

  ‘Many come,’ she said. ‘Few leave.’

  Acorn glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘I mean, I understand the strategy. If Rainsby holds out, then the empire is safe, so the Empress has to send all these reinforcements to replace the wounded and dead, but in a third she’ll have to do it all over again. And in the meantime, all these young soldiers,’ she pointed at the new recruits lining up on the dockside, ‘are walking into a nightmare.’

  ‘They’re doing their job, just like we are. Come on, we should go.’

  Thorn stubbed her cigarette out and stood. Her two guards, Tomlin and Bryda noticed and walked towards her. She smiled at them. The male, a stocky Holdings man, was still smoking, and flashed her the cocky grin he always wore. Next to him, a foot taller, strode her Kellach guard, a young woman the same age as Thorn, but already in her third year of service in the imperial armed forces.

  ‘Put that out,’ said Bryda. ‘You’re supposed to stop smoking when she does.’

  Tomlin spat his cigarette out and ground it under his boot. ‘Happy now?’

  ‘Soldiers shouldn’t smoke when they’re on duty,’ said Bracken, standing.

  Thorn grimaced.

  ‘Aye?’ said Bryda, frowning. ‘Then it’s lucky we’re not soldiers, eh?’

  ‘We’ve got our own fucking rules, darling,’ said Tomlin.

  Thorn took Bracken’s hand and led her back to the hospital entrance, her guards following.

  ‘Remember,’ she said, ‘don’t call them soldiers. They’re marines.’

  ‘What’s the difference?’ said Bracken.

  ‘Something to do with boats. Look, it seems important to them, so don’t piss them off.’

  She paused at the hospital door, her fingers poised over the handle. She took a deep breath and caught Acorn’s eye. The two sisters nodded, their smiles fixed, and Thorn opened the door.

  Eight hours later, Thorn and Acorn staggered from the hospital, exhausted and numbed. They and Bracken were clad in their change-of-clothes, their blood-smeared working gear gone to be washed overnight. Thorn lit a cigarette, her hand shaking.

  ‘You did good in there, sister,’ Acorn said, putting an arm over her shoulder.

  Thorn gazed at her. She wanted to tell her that it was the other way around, that Acorn had worked fearlessly and driven her sister on, when at times Thorn had felt she was going to collapse if she didn’t flee for the exit first. Somehow, Acorn had got her through it. Behind them, Bracken stood, pale and dejected. She had left the hospital many times, to escape the smell and the noise; the sight of burnt flesh and blackened limbs, and unrecognisable faces that screamed. The older hedgewitches had endured it with a strength of will that Thorn had seen many times since they had arrived. They didn’t mention it, but Thorn knew it was due to their experience of Sanang prior to the establishment of the Matriarchy. What they had witnessed then had fortified them against all kinds of horrors.

  ‘I need to get drunk,’ she said.

  A simple carriage was waiting for them, with another for the older hedgewitches next in line. Acorn, Thorn and Bracken boarded it, along with Bryda, while the other guards held onto the sides as it took off down the street, pulled by a pair of horses. Thorn slumped in her seat, her eyes gazing out of the carriage window. The roads were dark, with only a few lanterns lit at the main junctions. The entire Old Town was out of range of even the largest Rahain artillery machines, and people walked the streets in safety compared to the sprawling Outer City between the old walls and the new. They passed a tavern, where soldiers spilled outside, drinking and smoking, ale and whisky bottles lying on the cobbles by their feet.

  They went east, towards their home in Madden’s Tower, a new fortress built into a section of the Old Town wall. It functioned as a gatehouse between the Old Town and the imperial harbour, where the navy was based. It also housed the headquarters of the Imperial Marine Division, a new force commissioned by the Empress, trained to fight from ships, and comprised solely of proven veterans. The marines had been assigned the role of guarding the six hedgewitches that were living in Rainsby, and had found accommodation for them on the upper floors of the tower.

  ‘I’m going to see Clove when we get in,’ said Acorn. ‘I hope she’s not drinking in her room again.’

  ‘Let her,’ said Thorn.

  ‘No,’ said Acorn. ‘You go off and get drunk. It’s fine. You wouldn’t listen to me if I told you not to anyway. But it doesn’t matter, you’re strong. Clove is falling apart in front of us and I’m going to help her.’

  ‘Meaning I’m not?’

  Acorn sighed. ‘You need to unwind, I get it. I’m not blaming you.’

  ‘But what about you? You never seem to take a break; never seem to relax. You’re not Clove’s mother.’

  ‘Don’t blame mother for this; she’s having a hard enough time getting through each day as it is. You saw her in the hospital today; did you see her let up for a second?’

  ‘I saw her,’ said Thorn, ‘and tonight she’ll be knocking back the gin with Bluebell and Chestnut, leaving you to deal with Clove.’

  Acorn glared at her. ‘What do you want me to say? I know the nightmares that come to Clove every time she sleeps – we share a room for fuck’s sake.’

  ‘Don’t swear at me,’ Thorn said. ‘Give her some dreamweed, then put on a dress and join us in the bar. Maybe you’ll meet someone.’

  Bryda smirked.

  ‘You have something you want to add, marine?’ said Thorn.

  The young woman surprised her by blushing. ‘No, ma’am.’

  Thorn raised an eyebrow, noticing that Acorn and Bryda were avoiding eye-contact.

  The carriage halted in front of Madden’s Tower, and the doors were opened. Bryda jumped down, then helped the three Sanang women disembark. Marines saluted and nodded to them as they entered the tower through a fortified gate. They were escorted to the upper floors, passing barracks and officers’ quarters until they reached the small suite that had been set aside for them. Their guards were stationed in the rooms bordering theirs, and controlled the only entrance. Thorn and Bracken went to the room they shared, while Acorn went to look for Clove. Thorn threw off her clothes and picked out something from the wardrobe that wouldn’t make her look like she was wearing a sack. Bracken sat down on her bed, silent.

  ‘This, or this,’ Thorn said, holding up two hangers. She glanced at Bracken. ‘What do you think?’

  Bracken shrugged.

  ‘Are you not getting changed?’ said Thorn.r />
  ‘What’s the point?’

  ‘So you can look nice. Is it not obvious?’

  ‘We get drunk with the marines every night,’ said Bracken. ‘They’ve seen every outfit we brought with us.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It’s a waste of time. Who are you trying to impress?’

  ‘No one,’ said Thorn. ‘Just myself.’

  She hung one of the dresses back in the cupboard and slipped into the other one.

  ‘I might stay in tonight,’ said Bracken.

  Thorn frowned. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘What’s wrong? We’ve spent a whole day… like we spend every day. I can’t take it any more.’ She started to cry. ‘I can’t take the blood, and the screams, and the shit. The smell, Thorn, I have nightmares about the smell. I’ll never be able to wash it out of my skin.’

  Thorn sat on the bed and put an arm over her shoulder.

  ‘It’s alright,’ she said, rocking her gently.

  ‘I hate it,’ Bracken said through her tears. ‘All I do is stand next to you and hand you water and towels. I’m useless; you don’t need me here.’

  ‘Of course I do. Knowing you’re beside me helps me to keep going.’

  ‘How can you stand it?’

  ‘It’s all a trick,’ said Thorn. ‘Each day I pretend that it’s the last I’ll be in the hospital. I tell myself that I only have to get through that one day, and then it’ll be over. And then I come back here and drink enough so I can get to sleep and do it all over again. Hedgewitches have been doing this for as long as there have been wars, in other words, forever; and I’m not going to be the one that breaks that chain.’

  Bracken said nothing, sobbing quietly.

  ‘Why don’t you stay here tomorrow?’ said Thorn. ‘Or even better, go for a long walk around the Old Town; I’m sure one of the marines will give you a tour.’

  ‘I want to go home.’

  Thorn felt her temper rise. She stood, and lit a cigarette, walking to the window. She eased it open, letting in the warm evening air, and took a breath, waiting until the urge to shout at Bracken had passed. It wasn’t that she lacked empathy with her friend, or Clove for that matter; she well understood the reasons that were pushing each of them closer to a complete breakdown. She understood them because she felt it herself. It was only her day-at-a-time approach that had kept her going; if she tried to picture the days ahead, or if she allowed herself to obsess over the details of what she had done that day in the hospital, her mood and calm exterior went into a downward spiral. Her anxiety and dread twisted like a snake in the pit of her stomach, and she kept her face turned from Bracken lest she glimpsed the near-panic in Thorn’s eyes.

  She reached into a drawer and took a stick of dreamweed from a pouch, then lit it off her cigarette. She inhaled, and sat by the window, slowing her breathing like Acorn had shown her. Restless, she stood up and walked to the dresser, and sat in front of it. She laid the weedstick down into an ashtray, picked up a brush, and began pulling it through her long hair. Her tired-looking reflection frowned back at her. She smiled, but it was forced, and she could tell. She put on a little make-up, enough to make her seem less tired, then glanced back at Bracken.

  ‘You coming?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Come on, don’t leave me to sit with mother and the other two.’

  ‘Fine, but I’m not getting changed for it.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Thorn pulled on a pair of sandals and picked up a small bag, where she kept her cigarettes and a couple of sticks of dreamweed for later. Bracken slowly rose to her feet, and they walked to the door.

  Tomlin nodded to them as they left their room.

  ‘Hi,’ said Thorn. ‘Your turn tonight, is it?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, leaning against the wall of the passageway. ‘You look nice.’

  ‘Thanks. Is Bryda coming out?’

  ‘She’s probably in the bar already, if she’s got any sense.’

  He escorted the two Sanang women through the guarded checkpoints and down a flight of stairs. The noise coming from the bar was noticeable before they reached it. Each evening, the lucky few tower-based marines who were off duty would congregate there to spend a few hours relaxing. The bar was always well-stocked despite the efforts of the marines to drink it dry each night. The officers had their own booths tucked away in the corner of the bar, from where they pretended not to see what the marines got up to.

  Tomlin led them inside, to a few waves and cries of recognition. Thorn always got a few looks aimed in her direction, and she smiled, glad that she had made the effort to look good. Due to the shift changes, there were usually fresh faces in the bar that she had never seen before, as well as the small number of those she had seen a few times. She was most familiar with the bar staff and the officers, who had often invited her over to their booths. All drinks were free for the hedgewitches while they lived in the tower, but despite being plied with alcohol on many occasions, Thorn had managed to avoid any romantic entanglements.

  She spotted Bryda by the bar and they went over to her.

  ‘And what will Miss Thorn be having this evening?’ the marine said. ‘Wine?’

  ‘Gin.’

  Bryda laughed. ‘Straight to spirits, eh? Well, it was a fucking rough day, so I’d say that’s fair.’ She glanced at Tomlin. ‘Tea?’

  ‘Yeah,’ the marine sighed.

  ‘Bracken?’

  ‘Wine, please.’

  Bryda nodded and turned back to the bar, giving her order to the barman. She caught Thorn’s eye. ‘You’re sister’s over there,’ she said gesturing to an dark alcove, ‘if you want to get a seat. I’ll bring the drinks over.’

  Thorn frowned, and glanced over to the alcove. Deep in the shadows, Acorn was sitting, her head down. Thorn walked over, threading her way through the crowds of drinking marines standing in the open space in the middle of the bar. She reached the alcove and took a seat.

  ‘Wasn’t expecting you here,’ she said to Acorn.

  ‘Clove was already asleep when I got in, with an empty bottle of whisky on the table next to her.’

  Bracken and Tomlin joined them in the alcove.

  ‘Where’s your guard?’ said the marine.

  ‘I left him with Clove,’ Acorn said, ‘in case she wakes up, then he can come and get me. Don’t worry though, Bryda walked me down.’

  Tomlin frowned, but said nothing.

  ‘I’m sure one evening will be fine,’ said Thorn. ‘After all, any attacker would have to get past all the marines on the lower floors before they got up here.’

  ‘Our orders are clear, miss,’ Tomlin said. ‘One guard per hedgewitch at all times. When the Rahain tried to kill the Empress last year, they managed to get into the palace undetected, twice. They were rumoured to have some sort of sneaky mage power that let them move about unseen.’

  ‘Is that true?’ said Bracken, her eyes wide.

  ‘Don’t let him scare you,’ said Bryda, approaching with a loaded tray. ‘You girls are safe here.’

  She laid the tray down onto the table and began unloading the drinks.

  Thorn took a glass and the bottle of gin, and poured herself a large measure. ‘Let’s drink like the Kellach tonight.’

  Bryda frowned at her as she sat. ‘Don’t call me that.’

  ‘But,’ Thorn said, ‘isn’t that the name of your people?’

  ‘No, it’s Kellach Brigdomin.’

  ‘Yeah, but Kellach is easier to say.’

  ‘But I’m a Brig,’ Bryda cried. ‘Calling us Kellach erases us completely, as well as the Domm, though, frankly, I’m not too bothered about them. Why don’t you call us the “Brigdomin” instead? Fuck, I bet the Kell and the Lach are laughing their arses off at how this has turned out.’

  ‘Alright,’ said Thorn, raising her glass, ‘let’s drink like the Brigdomin tonight.’

  Bryda grinned. ‘That’s more like it, lass.’

  ‘So, Bryda,’ Thorn went on
, ‘are you seeing anyone right now?’

  ‘Why?’ the Brig woman smirked. ‘Are you interested?’

  ‘No, I was just wondering if marines are allowed to have relationships?’

  ‘Oh, we’re allowed them, so long as it doesn’t interfere with our duties.’

  ‘That’s good. Have you got your eye on anyone?’

  Bryda paused, her face flushing a little, while Tomlin chuckled over his mug of tea.

  ‘Cut the crap, Thorn,’ said Acorn. ‘If you think you know something, then out with it.’

  ‘Well, I was wondering if a marine dating a hedgewitch would be thought of as interfering with their duties. Say, for example, if Bryda was going with Acorn. You know, for example.’

  ‘Yer a canny wee cow,’ said Bryda. ‘Did someone tell you?’

  Thorn put on her most innocent face. ‘Tell me what?’

  ‘How long have you known?’ said Acorn.

  ‘How long have you two been seeing each other?’

  ‘Just a few days,’ her sister said, her face red. ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘Oh, I found out, let me see, about a minute ago?’

  Bryda and Tomlin laughed.

  ‘We’ll have to watch her,’ the Holdings man said. ‘I thought you two were being extra careful.’

  ‘We were,’ said Bryda, ‘but obviously not enough for Thorn.’

  ‘Does it bother you?’ said Acorn.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Thorn. ‘I’m happy for you. I’m glad somebody’s finding something good amid all the blood and misery.’

  ‘You know, Thorn,’ said Bryda, ‘there are plenty of marines that would like to get to know you better.’

  Tomlin smirked. ‘That’s one way to put it.’

  ‘I’m just saying,’ said Bryda. ‘If she’s looking for an introduction…’

  ‘No, thanks,’ said Thorn. ‘I’m saving myself.’

  ‘Aye? For who?’

  ‘Keir Holdfast.’

  Tomlin squinted at her. ‘Holdfast? You mean, one of the actual Holdfasts?’

  ‘He’s the eldest son of the First Holder, I believe.’

  ‘Are you two betrothed?’ said Bryda.

  ‘No, I’ve yet to meet him.’

  Bryda, Acorn and Tomlin exchanged puzzled glances.