‘You’re insane, they’ll kill us all.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ Killop said. ‘We’re better than them. We can beat them.’
‘I’m with you!’
‘It’s suicide.’
‘No one here is under any obligation,’ Bridget said. ‘As the chief said, you’re all free to choose. We’ll share out the supplies fairly, and if you decide to leave on your own, you’ll each take a full pack of provisions with you. But, if you choose to join our force, we’ll be heading north in the morning, back to our base, where you can rest and recover, while we plan the next raid.’
Killop gazed at the ex-slaves. The long memory of subjugation was seared into their faces.
‘Anyone who wants to join,’ he said, ‘can stay here tonight, and I’ll hear your oaths at dawn. Until then, rest. My warriors will guard the walls tonight.’
As Killop stepped down to the ground, Kylon tapped his shoulder.
‘We’ll also be leaving at dawn.’
‘Already?’
‘I need to find your sister,’ Kylon said. ‘I need to know the truth.’
‘Would it make any difference to the way you feel about her?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘I admit it. I’ll love her until my dying breath, no matter what she does. But I still need to know.’
‘When you find her,’ he said, ‘tell her I love her. Tell her I’ll always be her brother.’
Kylon nodded.
‘She needs you,’ Killop said. ‘No matter why she did what she did, there’s a shitstorm headed her way. You’ve got to get to her before the Rahain make her do anything else.’
He gripped his friend’s shoulder.
‘I know how hard it must have been for you to bring me the news about Daphne,’ he said, ‘but it’s better that I know. At least now I can avenge her.’
‘Don’t let your desire for revenge change you,’ Kylon said. ‘Remember who you are.’
Killop shook his head. ‘Half my soul died with Daphne, and what’s left is filled with hate. I will bring death to the Rahain for what they have done. I swear it.’
Kylon closed his mouth and looked away, his eyes dark.
Chapter 5
Bloodletting
Black Hills, Sanang/Plateau Frontier – 1st Day, Second Third Summer 505
The prisoner was brought forth, dragged by two warriors. The Holdings man did not resist. His head lolled, and his legs trailed through the dirt. Blood stained his ragged clothing, and his dark skin was covered in weals and ugly bruises.
A sharp wind gusted across the face of the mountain valley, where the army had assembled that dawn. Agang stood at its head, flanked by Badolecht Nang, his high mage, and Mandalecht Naro, his commander. A yard in front of them a long line had been cut into the soft earth, a line that marked the border between Sanang and the Plateau. It was a fiction, Agang knew, he had just picked a spot that looked suitable on a scout’s map. Somewhere big enough to hold the entire army, and to ensure that everyone could see the small group of men standing by the borderline.
As the two warriors approached, the wind blew aside the prisoner’s hair, allowing a glimpse of his face. The young man’s features were beaten and cut. His eyes were open, but showed nothing but silent fear.
When the morning sun appeared over the crest of the mountains to their east, Badolecht drew a long curved knife from his belt. The warriors hoisted the prisoner onto their shoulders, and carried him to the border. They halted when their feet reached the line, holding the prisoner’s body out over it.
Badolecht swept forward, raising his hand so the army could see the knife, then reached under the prisoner and gutted him from neck to navel in one swift motion, the man’s innards spilling out onto both sides of the line. The man shrieked his death wail, and fell silent. The warriors dropped him to the ground, his legs in Sanang, his torso and head resting on the Plateau.
The army cheered, a great raucous roar of guttural triumph.
Agang smiled. He had mocked Hodang when he had approached him with a plan for enacting a ritual at the border. He had been particularly put off by the idea of sacrificing a captive to the gods in honour of their crossing, but now he saw the value of it.
Agang stepped forward. Not in centuries, if ever, had a Sanang army crossed its own frontier.
And now he, Agang Garo, was the first to do it.
Amid a great cheer, he drew his sword, stepped over the body of the dead prisoner, and planted his feet on the Plateau. He bent down, scooped up a handful of bloody earth, and held it aloft.
The rapturous crowd hailed him, and he knew at that moment he would be their king.
His personal guard followed him across the border, and he watched as they set up a small platform from prefabricated pieces. Hodang’s final touch. It was assembled in minutes, and Agang ascended the wooden steps and sat in the raised chair, from where he could view the broad path where the army would cross. First to make the passage would be one of his own eight regiments, led by Mandalecht, followed by the warriors of his allies, with his other seven regiments interspersed throughout the long procession.
His commanders and advisers gathered on the platform around him. Echtang was beaming at the sight of the army forming itself into ranks, ready to begin the crossing. Drums sounded. The troops cheered, and began marching. As they passed the platform, the warriors of Agang’s regiment turned and saluted.
‘You command their utter loyalty, my lord,’ a voice whispered in his ear. ‘They adore you.’
‘Not now, Hodang,’ Agang said. ‘Watching this is enough. If I have to listen to your flattery as well, my head might explode.’
‘Very well, my lord.’ Hodang said. ‘Good job earlier, I thought.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Next time, we could perhaps release some birds, symbolic of…’
‘Next time? I was hoping this was the only time our warriors have to cross the border.’
‘I wouldn’t say that too loudly, my lord. There are some here who see this as the first of many such incursions.’
Agang shook his head. He missed governing his lands, and never stopped worrying about what was going on in his absence. Just a quick raid, to gain the minimum amount of revenge and loot to satisfy the massed killers marching before him. Then home.
The army took the entire day to pass, as Hodang had predicted. Over twenty thousand warriors, the largest Sanang army to gather in generations. Despite boredom and exhaustion, Agang maintained his solemn expression throughout, helped by Hodang passing him a small stick of keenweed every few hours.
As the last soldiers filed past, he let out a long breath. The rearmost detachment was a group of his own Household Guards, and he stepped down from the platform.
The warriors escorted him across the hillside, to where the army was camped for the night. The warriors were feasting and drinking, enjoying the liberal amount of food and alcohol that had been distributed. In the centre of the camp stood the tents of the allied chiefs, and Agang’s own personal quarters, joined by a canvas door to a vast feasting tent that took fifteen wagons to haul through the mountains.
Inside, the captains, lords and officers of the army were celebrating in Sanang fashion. Fumes of narcotics billowed up from water-pipes and heroic quantities of alcohol were being consumed. Drums sounded as Agang crossed the threshold, and the hundred men inside let out a loud cheer.
Agang strode between the tables, where his allies and captains jostled to salute him. He reached the high table at the far end, and was seated at its centre, his inner circle placed next to him. He listened as each of the chiefs toasted him and the army, then the food arrived, from servants bearing heaped trays.
He stayed long enough to be respectful, then beckoned to the others at the table. They stood and followed him through the rear of the tent to a more intimate room in his own quarters.
‘I’m glad that’s over,’ Agang said, falling into his cushioned chair, the dull noise of drums and laughte
r filtering through from the feasting hall. A servant placed a cup in his hand.
‘It was worth it,’ Hodang said, picking up a ledger from a table next to him as he sat. ‘Every warrior will remember this day. And they will all remember the man who first crossed the frontier.’
‘I felt it was a little over the top, personally,’ Badolecht said, drinking wine and smoking dreamweed.
‘I don’t recall any reluctance in your performance this morning,’ Hodang said.
‘I was just putting the poor bugger out of his misery,’ the mage replied. ‘Did you see the condition he was in?’
‘He was a gift from Anganecht,’ Agang said. ‘Would have been impolitic to have refused.’
‘That awful old man?’ Badolecht sighed.
‘He holds the Mya tribes,’ Hodang said. ‘We need him on our side.’
‘I hear he’s demanding to have his forces in the front line whenever we find the Holdings army,’ Mandalecht said.
‘They all are,’ Agang snorted, ‘but Anganecht is pressing his case the loudest. He says it was his people who suffered the most.’
‘He has a point,’ Badolecht said.
‘Maybe,’ Agang said, ‘but it doesn’t matter. I’m going first.’
‘A king directs battles from the rear,’ Hodang said, ‘where he can command his forces.’
Agang laughed. ‘The surest way to stop me becoming king is if I start acting like one. The ritual at the crossing was going far enough, I think.’
‘I agree,’ said Mandalecht. ‘The warriors need to see you lead the army, not skulking by the tents with the slaves and cowards.’ He glanced at Hodang. ‘No offence.’
The chief minister glared over his ledger book at the one-eyed commander, while the rest of the room laughed.
‘What did you think of today, Echtang?’ Agang asked his nephew.
‘Honestly uncle?’ the young man said. ‘Good for the first hour, then boring as hell for the rest of the time.’
Agang smiled. ‘Boredom, I’m afraid, is something you’ll have to get used to. The people love their rituals, and that often means sitting still for hours at a time.’
‘Well,’ Mandalecht said, ‘the boring part is over, so we may as well enjoy ourselves. I was thinking of a quick visit to Drechtan Goe’s tents. I heard he has a brothel of Holdings whores.’
Lomecht Ra, commander of two regiments, looked up from his cup of wine. ‘I wouldn’t if I were you,’ he said. ‘They’re rank, I’ve seen them. Broken. Would be like fucking the dead.’
Mandalecht sighed.
‘There’s only one Holdings slave in this camp worth looking at,’ Lomecht went on. ‘Where is she, Chief? You not bringing her out tonight?’
‘Keeping this men-only,’ Agang said.
‘Pity,’ Lomecht said. ‘I’d love to spend an hour with her. Would you grant me an hour, Chief?’
‘No.’
‘What about after I kill twenty Holdings soldiers? Would you give her to me for an hour then?’
‘No.’
‘Lomecht, my old friend,’ Mandalecht said. ‘I think you’ve been stationed in Beechwoods too long. At Broadwater, everyone knows that Agang does not share his Holdings slaves, especially Chane.’
Lomecht looked surprised for a moment, then nodded.
‘If I could say something, Chief,’ he said, ‘it seems that you’re missing a trick here. The warlords would be falling over themselves to offer you the earth for a night with Chane. You’d have them eating out of your hands.’
‘I’ve brought this up before,’ Hodang said. ‘The ransom we could command against the risk the slave was injured or even killed by one of them, we could practically demand half their lands in compensation.’
‘It could seal a bargain with the tribes south of the Tritos,’ Echtang said. ‘Their chief Badranga Lecht has already told me of his desire for her. We could let him borrow her…’
‘Wait,’ Badolecht said. ‘Are you forgetting that we’re talking about someone we’ve all spoken to, someone we know?’
The group averted their eyes, except for Lomecht, who looked amused.
‘And Agang,’ the mage went on, ‘I expected more of you.’
‘What did I say?’
The mage frowned. ‘Nothing.’
‘I was listening to everyone’s opinions,’ he said, scowling. ‘You are my advisers, am I not supposed to listen to what you have to say?’
‘And now that you have listened, what do you say?’
‘Nothing has changed,’ Agang said. ‘Chane is inviolate. She is not to be touched by anyone. If someone even breathes on her in a manner I find inappropriate I’ll rip their balls off.’ He looked over at Badolecht. ‘Enough for you?’
The mage nodded.
Agang stood. ‘I’m off to bed. I’ll pass on your regards to Chane.’
The group laughed as he passed a pair of guards and entered his private rooms. Another set of guards stood outside a small chamber, and he entered. Inside, the room was dark, save for a solitary beeswax candle burning on a table. The bed took up most of the rest of the room, and on it sat Chane, her face in the shadows of the flickering light.
‘Good evening,’ he said to her as he sat on the mattress, and began pulling off his boots.
‘Why did you bring me here?’ she said, her voice a whisper.
He looked blank for a moment. ‘For the company,’ he said, ‘and for your knowledge of the Plateau. A whole host of reasons.’
‘Was one of them whoring me out to the warlords?’
‘What?’
‘You idiot,’ she spat. ‘Canvas fucking walls. Sound travels.’
‘Oh.’
She snorted, and picked up a cup from the table.
‘I should have rebuked them earlier,’ he said, ‘but I’d never let any of them harm you.’
‘I know that, dummy,’ she said. ‘I know what you think. No, it was hearing the others that got me. Hodang? Echtang? I thought they… What a fool I am.’
He took her hand. ‘These things take time to change. At least Badolecht spoke up for you.’
She nodded. ‘I would have put money on him being the one who disliked me.’
Agang smiled. ‘He’s long had a soft spot for you. From when you were giving instruction to my sword-masters, and he had to patch you up every night. Some of the beatings you took, he said it was a wonder you kept at it. But you did, and my army is the best trained in Sanang.’
‘I did it for you.’
‘And I’ll always be grateful.’
‘It’s not enough. I want more.’
‘What? Name it.’
‘I want something from you,’ she said. ‘I mean something from deep within you. Your past before we met is a complete blank to me, you have never given me anything of yourself. Oh, you’ve told me bland statements from time to time, but you are not as careful as you think, and I’ve heard you contradict yourself. I’ve listened to three different versions of your childhood, and I doubt any of them are true.’
‘Get me a drink,’ he said.
He looked at her as she poured him a cup of wine. How much should he give her?
‘What do you want to know?’ he said, taking the cup.
Her eyes glowed. ‘Your parents.’
‘Before I start,’ he said, ‘know that you are not alone. I never discuss my life with anyone, so what I’m going to tell you is because you have my complete trust.’
She nodded, and leaned forward an inch.
‘I was brought up by my mother,’ he said, ‘in a women’s enclosure, until my seventh birthday. I can barely remember any of it to be honest, and I haven’t been able to picture my mother’s face for a long time.’
‘What happened on your seventh birthday?’
He paused. It was hard, but he needed Chane.
‘My father took me away. In my tribe, that was the tradition, the boys get taken by their fathers, and learn the man’s world, following their father’s trade.’
>
‘And what did your father do?’
He took a drink. ‘He was what I would now describe as a common bandit, running with a gang of thugs, rapists and thieves in the upper reaches of the Twinth. Causing misery to every villager that lived within ten miles.’
‘How did you cope?’
‘No, Chane,’ he said. ‘That’s enough.’
‘The fuck it is.’
‘Keep your voice lowered.’
‘Or what?’
Agang narrowed his eyes. ‘What’s going on, Chane?’
She looked away, and took a long draw on a smokestick.
‘Something about this trip doesn’t feel right, Agang.’
‘Why? Because we’ll be attacking your people?’
She shook her head, her eyes welling. ‘Do you think I’d be helping you if that bothered me?’
‘Then why?’
‘Because I can’t work out why you brought me,’ she said, tears falling down her cheeks. ‘I’m of no more use to you. I’ve taught you everything I know about the Holdings military, and sword-work, and map-making, and I’ve nothing left. Nothing to stop you getting rid of me whenever you choose.’
Anang said nothing.
She was right. What did he need her for? He had a choice. Bring her in and keep her close, or cast her aside. He weighed up his options as she watched him, her eyes puffy and suspicious.
Maybe his advisors had a point. If Hodang thought it prudent to bargain her away then it was something he should at least consider. He thought about Echtang’s suggestion, to offer the slave to the southern tribes. Play it well, and he would be a step closer to being crowned king.
No. The idea of another man pawing his prize possession made him feel sick. And the notion of some kind of loan was laughable, as he didn’t think he would be able to bear looking at her after she had been with someone else.
He stood, and paced the narrow strip of floor. Chane kept silent, perhaps sensing his thoughts.
The other option was to kill her himself, then no one would be able to have her. That was what it came down to, either share a part of himself with her, a part that she could use against him if she chose, or eliminate her.
The Severed City Page 6