The Severed City

by Christopher Mitchell

  They nodded. Killop could see fear in their eyes, despite the nonchalant expressions.

  ‘See you in the morning,’ he said.

  He walked out of their room, and back through the caverns and tunnels to the chief’s hall, where the drinking had begun.

  There was a roar when he entered, and the gathered folk raised their ale to him.

  Someone passed him a full mug, and he took it, and drank it in one, to cheers.

  He scanned the crowd as he made his way to the great limestone table. Bridget was there, with Brodie, Kalden and Draewyn. Dyam was sitting, writing in a book as if she were alone in the hall, but there was no sign of Larissa.

  ‘Bridget,’ he said as he took a seat, the others budging up to make space for him.

  ‘Chief,’ she smiled, filling his mug.

  ‘You seen Larissa?’

  ‘Aye,’ she said. ‘She was heading up to the northern gate to check her company’s supplies.’

  Killop frowned.

  ‘You haven’t fucking told her, have you?’

  ‘Not had the chance.’

  Bridget scowled. ‘Come on.’

  ‘Too busy.’

  ‘That’s just what she said,’ Bridget sighed. ‘Oh well, you’ve got tonight, otherwise it’s going to be fucking awkward tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ he said. ‘I’m knackered, and I want a clear head in the morning.’

  ‘And what am I supposed to tell her if she shows up?’

  Killop stood. ‘Whatever you like Bridget. See you in the morning.’

  He picked up his mug, and passed groups of drinking Kellach, sharing a few nods and greetings, until he reached the door to his room. He took a lamp from the wall and went in.

  His small chamber was cold, and as sparsely furnished as it had ever been. He sat on the mattress, and drank his ale, the sounds of the Kellach in the hall muffled by the heavy door.

  Tomorrow he was marching to war.

  He finished the ale, turned the lamp down, and went to sleep.

  He dreamed of snow, of being lost in a blizzard. Somewhere, out of sight beyond the swirling flakes, was everything he had been searching for, but his legs were buried deep in the drifting snow, and no matter how hard he tried, he could never get closer.

  The door opened, and a lamp shone a dim light from the entranceway.

  Killop sat up.

  There was no noise coming from the hall.

  He squinted, but whoever held the lamp was shrouded in shadow.

  ‘Is it morning?’ he said.

  ‘No.’

  It was Larissa.

  She closed the door, and put the lamp down on the little table.

  ‘We need to talk,’ he said. ‘I’ve been meaning to catch you these past few days, but…’

  She untied her robe and let it fall to the floor.

  He gazed at her, his words dried up.

  She got onto the mattress, her naked body pressing against him.

  ‘We can talk tomorrow.’

  Chapter 25

  Manumission

  Tahrana City, Rahain Republic – 1st Day, Second Third Winter 505

  Agang paused, his personal detachment of guards fanning out around him. The cavern was in shadow, with only the flickering of fires from houses burning providing any light. He could see dozens of lamps, hanging from the high ceiling, and mounted on the walls, but none were lit. He stepped over the body of a dead Rahain soldier, and moved forwards again, leading his warriors towards the source of the loudest fighting.

  Over to his left by a burnt-out shop front, a row of kneeling Rahain were being beheaded by a Sanang squad, children and civilians among the victims, while to his right hedgewitches were patching up wounded warriors.

  Ahead, the vast cavern narrowed into a series of high-arches, with broad tunnels leading off, all of which had been barricaded.

  Agang studied the lines of Sanang at the front, who were attacking the main barricade in the central tunnel. Just behind them, he saw his commander.

  ‘Mandalecht,’ he called.

  The one-eyed old warrior turned and saw him.

  ‘My lord,’ he said, wiping the dirt from his face, and trying to straighten his uniform. ‘What are you doing here? It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘I stayed away from the fighting at Rainsby,’ Agang said, ‘and again through the great mountain tunnel. I can no longer stand aside while my men die for me.’

  Mandalecht nodded through furrowed brows. They walked away from the front, the commander’s staff officers gathering round.

  ‘What’s the situation?’ Agang said.

  ‘The western caverns of the city have been taken, my lord,’ he said, ‘but we have yet to link up with the Holdings forces that were attacking from the north.’

  ‘I know Field Marshal Howie is throwing everything she has into the battle,’ Agang said.

  Mandalecht pulled a map from his jacket and unfolded it.

  ‘We’re due to meet up here, my lord,’ he said, pointing. ‘That’s through the main tunnel exiting this cavern, but the snakes have blocked it up well and good, and their crossbow snipers are covering every approach. I’ve sent Lomecht with a regiment south, to see if they can outflank this position. Another one is clearing out the caverns behind us, making sure we didn’t leave any snakes behind.’

  ‘Sir,’ a company leader cried, running towards them through the piles of debris. He skidded to a halt when he saw Agang. ‘My lord.’ He bowed.

  ‘What is it, Captain?’ Mandalecht said.

  ‘Something’s happening beyond the barricades, sir,’ he said, pointing at the arched tunnel entrances.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The Rahain forces are pulling out, sir.’

  Mandalecht glanced at Agang.

  ‘Maybe our allies have broken through,’ Agang said. ‘Clear the tunnel.’

  ‘You heard the chief,’ Mandalecht shouted. ‘Get those barricades down.’

  Officers relayed orders to the warriors in the front lines. They surged forwards, keeping their shields high, but no bolts came at them. Within minutes, the Sanang were swarming over the barricades, hauling away the broken wagons, wooden beams and rubble the Rahain had used to block the cavern’s exits.

  Agang led the commanders to the front, past the sprawling bodies where warriors had been shot down. The wood from the barricades was being hurled onto bonfires, which were roaring, sending black smoke up into the cavern, their flames licking the ornate chandeliers.

  ‘Look out!’ a warrior cried, as one fell from the ceiling, smashing onto the road below, showering a squad of warriors with glass and metal fragments.

  Damn these holes in the ground, Agang thought. He had lost more soldiers in a few hours of close fighting in the caverns than he had over the rest of the invasion. Like snakes, living underground. A flash of hatred for the Rahain passed through him, a feeling of base disgust for the enemy. They deserved no pity.

  Agang helped out at the front, pulling away large beams of wood, and clearing bodies. The warriors around him saluted and nodded, and he could see their appreciation that he was there in person. For a while he almost forgot he was their chief, almost their king, as he sweated with the effort of manual labour. The heat from the bonfires grew, and the flames began spreading to the side streets of the cavern.

  A statue that looked a thousand years old toppled over, consumed by fire, its marble body parts spilling over the broken flagstones.

  The warriors cleared the last of the blockage from the main tunnel, and Mandalecht ordered a company through. Agang followed with his guard, and the remaining regiments came behind. The tunnel was wide and high, and covered in murals of the countryside, fields, and sky above painted blue with white clouds. A few of the wall lamps were flickering, and in their light he could see openings on either side of the tunnel, leading to houses, shops, places to eat. Agang marvelled at it all. To think he had been proud of the size of his town of Broadwater, when it could fit int
o what he had seen of Tahrana City many times over.

  Apart from his warriors marching through, the tunnel was deserted, with signs of a chaotic departure all around. They came to a crossroads, and the lead company paused. Mandalecht came up to Agang with the map.

  ‘We are here, my lord,’ he said. ‘We need to go straight ahead, but I’m worried. If the snakes have withdrawn their forces to the left and right, they may try to cut us off.’

  Agang nodded. ‘One regiment down each,’ he said. ‘And we’ll carry on with the rest to the centre of the city.’

  ‘Four might not be enough if we meet their main force, my lord.’

  ‘Damn these tunnels,’ Agang spat. ‘It’ll have to be enough, Commander.’

  Mandalecht nodded, and began issuing orders while the warriors took a moment’s rest. It was cold in the tunnel, the heat from the fires in the cavern far behind them. Agang felt a chill from the cold damp sweat permeating his clothes. He noticed a few warriors light up smokesticks, and took an offered one.

  The keenweed calmed him, and he forgot the cold. After a minute, they were ready to go again, and Mandalecht ordered a trot, and the four regiments bounded down the main tunnel.

  They descended a huge, wide set of stairs, with parallel ramps on either side for carriages. At the bottom Agang saw the aftermath of a disturbance. Bodies lay bloody, littering the ground, along with wagons on their sides, and stray gaien wandering. Crates and boxes spilled out of shop fronts on both sides of the wide tunnel.

  ‘What do you think?’ he asked Mandalecht.

  His old commander surveyed the scene.

  ‘Snake soldiers and civilians,’ he said, ‘killing each other. I’d guess that the soldiers came across these guys looting the shops, and they had a disagreement.’

  ‘Their own people are looting?’

  ‘That’s the way it looks, my lord.’

  Warriors walked through the devastation, ending the life of any Rahain they found injured.

  Mandalecht took out the map.

  ‘We’re close to the centre,’ he said. ‘There’s a cluster of three great caverns that make a triangle, right in the middle of the city, and we’re coming up to this one.’ He pointed.

  Once all of the warriors were down the steps, they began trotting again, racing through the heart of the city. Smaller tunnels led off to their left and right, but they ignored them. Agang got a sight of a few groups of civilians, fleeing as fast as they could, running down the side alleys.

  Ahead of them through the dim light he saw another barricade. Rahain soldiers stood in a long line, with their backs to the Sanang, watching the tunnel in front of them

  ‘Fuck,’ Mandalecht cried, as the barricades were swept aside by a surging horde of Rahain civilians, thousands of them, fleeing in a mass stampede towards the Sanang, trampling the line of Rahain soldiers in their way.

  Agang saw the looks of terror on the faces of the civilians as they realised they were running right towards the Sanang forces, but the pressure from behind was pushing them onwards like a river in spate, and any who tried to turn were swallowed by the mass of bodies.

  ‘Shield wall!’ Agang shouted as loudly as he could. ‘Stand fast!’

  His warriors obeyed in an instant, the front companies forming a line that filled the entire width of the tunnel. Other companies rushed forward, until the line was eight deep, each warrior with his shield held in front of him, and each line bracing itself against the men ahead.

  Agang stayed back with the reserve companies behind the thick line of Sanang flesh, watching as the flood of Rahain hit the shield wall with a sickening crunch of breaking spears, and bodies crushed, gored and trampled. The wall of Sanang was pushed back a yard, then two, the boots of the warriors sliding over the smooth flagstones on the ground. The momentum of the civilians’ surge peaked, and began to ebb, the shield wall grinding to a halt, their combined muscle holding back the flood. Their spears flashed out from behind the wall, dealing death to the front rows of Rahain.

  Agang leapt onto an overturned crate to get a better view. Civilians were fleeing down side streets, but more were arriving from the far end of the tunnel. There were thousands packed in, each new arrival adding to the pressure in the centre of the crowd.

  ‘Rotate the wall,’ he heard Mandalecht cry, and warriors ran forwards to relieve the front lines.

  Hedgewitches pulled exhausted and broken Sanang out from the wall, healing them so they could be ready to fight again as soon as possible.

  The noise became almost unbearable as masses of Rahain were crushed to death in the tunnel, their cries echoing off the high, painted ceiling.

  ‘This is insane,’ muttered Mandalecht, staring at the back of the straining shieldwall.

  They rotated the lines at the front every few minutes, sending more men to any spot that weakened, and after what seemed like hours the pressure eased. Agang climbed up onto the crate again. The tunnel was emptying, the inward flow had ceased, and the remaining civilians were crowding down the side alleys.

  ‘Advance!’ he cried, raising his sword. ‘Push them back!’

  His shield wall moved as one, taking a step forward, climbing over the heaps of slain Rahain.

  With each pace, more civilians fled, and soon the Sanang were the only ones left standing in the tunnel.

  Mandalecht stood the entire front lines down, and sent them to the rear to recuperate, while the reserves moved up and formed a new line.

  Agang and Mandalecht walked forward, their eyes wide. Hundreds, maybe thousands of bodies lay heaped in piles, the majority crushed to death, though many had been dispatched by the Sanang.

  ‘Four warriors dead, my lord,’ a captain said to them. ‘Asphyxiated. Another few dozen have injuries that will put them out of action for a while. We’re sending them back to the crossroads.’

  ‘Four?’ Agang said, gazing at the carnage all around. ‘What were the snakes running from?’

  Mandalecht shook his head.

  Agang tried to summon some sympathy for the mass of people lying dead before him. Many looked poor, and were dressed in identical cheap brown clothing, like a uniform. But their faces seemed so similar to each other, and their eyes, with the vertical pupils, turned his stomach.

  He looked down one of the side streets, and saw a crowd of Rahain, watching from fifty yards along the tunnel.

  ‘Let’s get going,’ he said to Mandalecht.

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘Issue a command,’ he said. ‘Leave the civilians alone, unless they attack. Focus only on any armed forces we meet, until we get to the centre.’

  Mandalecht shot him a glance.

  ‘There are too many,’ Agang said. ‘We are in the middle of a den of snakes. We must be wary.’

  Mandalecht relayed more orders, and the regiments formed up.

  They began moving again, at a slower pace than before, keeping a watchful eye on the mobs of Rahain civilians lurking down every side street.

  Agang stayed with the front ranks at the head of his army. After twenty minutes of marching, he could see the tunnel ahead open up into a vast space.

  ‘We’re here,’ Mandalecht breathed.

  They upped their pace, then halted when they reached the entrance to the cavern. It was enormous, dwarfing the chambers they had seen before. Great buildings were cut into every available space on the curving cavern wall, and a massive complex of structures towered upwards from the centre of the floor, like a termite mound, its uppermost spires brushing the cavern’s ceiling. The rock was shot through with pink granite, and deeper reds and browns.

  Agang wanted to stand and stare at it for hours, but the cavern churned with movement. On the ground level before them crowds of Rahain were running, while Holdings soldiers attacked the gates to their left. A standard of the realm was flying from a tower, and ranks of armoured troopers were carving their way towards the central structure. On higher levels, where graceful bridges arced across from the cavern wall to th
e centre, there was more fighting.

  ‘Drums and horns,’ Agang said to Mandalecht. ‘Time to make our presence known.’

  His commander nodded, and turned to a captain.

  The drumbeat began, a slow pounding, rising in volume as each regiment’s drummers picked up the rhythm. Then the horns wailed, a long eerie moaning.

  The crowds in the cavern turned to stare, and a cheer went up from where the Holdings troopers were fighting.

  Agang nodded, and the army began marching into the cavern, making straight for the main complex in the centre. Rahain civilians fled at the sight of them, screaming, and running for any way out. Agang made no attempt to stop them, and a flood of bodies drained out of the cavern. The soldiers facing the Holdings troopers broke, and joined the exodus, trampling civilians to death as they fled.

  The noise in the cavern quietened as it emptied.

  Agang hailed the ranks of Holdings troopers, and a group of officer emerged from their lines.

  ‘Lord Agang,’ a major said. ‘Exquisite timing. There were so many people crammed in here, I was starting to wonder if we would ever be able to cut our way through.’

  Agang stared up at the enormous edifice towering over them in the centre of the cavern.

  ‘What is this place?’

  ‘Merchants’ Hall,’ the major said. ‘Heart of trade and commerce.’

  ‘Is this the first central cavern the alliance has reached?’ Agang asked.

  ‘We now occupy two of the three great caverns, this and the Hall of Learning. The Kellach Brigdomin are assaulting the Council Hall as we speak.’

  ‘Do they require assistance?’

  The major shook his head. ‘Let them have their vengeance. Did you have much trouble on the way here?’

  ‘There were some barricades that delayed us,’ Agang said, ‘but those defending them withdrew.’

  ‘The whole Rahain army is leaving,’ the major said, ‘or has already left.’

  ‘Why? Our attrition rate in the fighting was awful. If they had defended every tunnel they way the did when we first got in, they would have bled us dry.’