The Severed City

by Christopher Mitchell

  A sense of panic flitted through her. She blinked. She didn’t feel as if she were about to lose control.

  She felt it again.

  ‘It’s coming from the baby,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Get Shella,’ Daphne gasped, as a surge of pain ripped through her. The urge to push was almost irresistible, the muscles in her lower back were on fire.

  Panic.

  ‘It’s going to be all right,’ she whispered.

  ‘What’s up?’ Shella yawned.

  ‘Something’s wrong.’

  She felt a hand touch her belly.

  ‘Heart rate’s high,’ Shella said.

  Daphne started to clamber back onto the bed.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ Shella said, a firm tone to her voice. ‘You’re right, something is wrong.’ Daphne felt Shella move her skirts. ‘I’m going to have to break your waters.’

  ‘Do it,’ Daphne gasped, the pain going on, longer than any contraction.

  She closed her eyes, and Shella’s hand moved. Warm liquid poured down the insides of her legs.

  ‘You’re fully dilated,’ she heard Shella’s voice say, as if from far away, ‘but the baby has moved, and I think it may have got tangled up with the cord.’

  Daphne clenched her teeth to stop herself screaming. Her body felt like it was being split apart.

  ‘Don’t push,’ Shella said. ‘I’m going to try to move the baby.’

  Two hands were placed on her abdomen.

  Daphne nearly collapsed from the pain. Bedig put his arm around her shoulder.

  ‘Maybe time to give her a smoke, princess?’

  ‘Not yet. And shut up, I’m concentrating.’

  Something wrenched inside her, but it also felt free, as if a pressure was released.

  ‘Now Daphne,’ Shella cried. ‘Push.’

  Daphne pushed for a long hour, until Shella finally gave in, and passed her a smokestick of mixed dullweed and dreamweed. It had numbed most of the pain, but it had also slowed her labour down as Daphne lost all track of time. At some point, maybe minutes, maybe hours before, she had got back onto the bed. She tried to push when Shella urged her, but she could barely feel the muscles in her abdomen.

  Bedig was asleep in a chair, and Celine was by her side, stroking her hair and whispering words of comfort. Shella remained down between her legs.

  ‘This is taking too long,’ she muttered. ‘Heart rate’s low, and I’m worried. The cord’s free, but the baby’s facing the wrong way, and it looks like it’s got stuck.’

  Shella’s words floated to Daphne as if she was in a dream.

  ‘I’m going to have to speed things up a bit,’ she said.

  ‘Is it dangerous?’ Celine asked.

  ‘Yeah, but it’s better than doing nothing.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Make her muscles contract. Make her do another big push, like she was doing before I gave her the dullweed.’

  She looked up at Daphne.

  ‘This is going to hurt. Probably a lot. Sorry.’

  ‘Get it over with,’ Daphne mumbled.

  The worst pain she had ever experienced tore through her, like her insides were ripping. Even with the dullweed, the agony streaked its way down her body. Her memory flashed an image of being tortured in the dungeons of the church, but that had been nothing compared to this.

  It rose to a crescendo, like toppling over an abyss, then, like that, it was over. She felt weak, drained. Her breath grew shallow, and her eyesight darkened. There was a warm pulse of blood down her legs.

  ‘We’re losing her,’ she heard Celine cry from far away.

  Daphne opened her eyes. She was on her back, which was stiff, and her nethers were on fire, but most of all she felt an absence, a lifting of a heavy weight. Bedig was standing, mopping the floor, where previously clean white towels were stained with blood. Celine was on her other side, her head on the bed, gently snoring.

  ‘You’re awake,’ Shella said.

  Daphne raised her head a fraction.

  Shella was sitting in an armchair, smoking. Her clothes were covered in blood, and she had spatters down her face.

  ‘Where’s the baby?’ Daphne whispered, her voice hoarse.

  Shella stood, and walked to a small crib.

  Daphne tried to raise her head further, but was too exhausted.

  ‘Why’s the baby so quiet? Is everything all right?’

  ‘She’s sleeping,’ Shella smiled. ‘Zonked out by all the effort, not to mention the dullweed.’

  She leant into the crib and picked up a bundle.

  ‘She?’

  ‘Yes, Daphne,’ Shella said. ‘It’s a girl.’

  She passed the bundle to Daphne, and she laid the baby down against her breast, and gazed into her tiny, wrinkled face. Her dark skin was warm and soft.

  ‘She’s beautiful.’

  ‘Yeah, she is now,’ Shella said. ‘You should have seen her when she first came out.’

  Bedig stood by the bed. ‘Shella saved her. She saved you both.’

  ‘With a little help from Celine,’ Shella said. ‘She gave you a lot of her blood.’

  ‘You’re true sisters now,’ Bedig said.

  Daphne noticed a bandage on Celine’s arm.

  ‘You were haemorrhaging,’ Shella said. ‘Even once the afterbirth was out, the blood wouldn’t stop.’

  She raised her hands.

  ‘It felt good to use these to help for once.’

  ‘Thank you Shella,’ Daphne said, her eyes still on the baby in her arms. She felt drawn in, as if the infant was willing her to connect, to join with her. She felt an urge to be close, and without meaning to, she slipped into inner-vision, and found herself merging with the baby’s thoughts and feelings.

  Everything was blurry, as she looked out of the baby’s eyes. All of her attention was focussed on the love that was between them, and Daphne was nearly overwhelmed by it.

  She pulled back.

  She felt nauseous, and guilty. What right had she to go prying into her daughter’s mind?

  The baby started to cry.

  ‘You’d better get used to that noise,’ Shella said.

  Celine awoke.

  ‘Daphne?’

  ‘I’m fine, the baby’s fine,’ Daphne said. ‘Your blood, and Shella’s powers saved us.’

  Her sister-in-law smiled, a look of deep fatigue lining her face.

  As Daphne gazed at Celine, the baby settled down, as if in response to her mood.

  ‘She can sense what I’m feeling,’ she said.

  Shella chuckled. ‘Your imagination might be running away with you. It was a long day. And night. It’s nearly dawn.’

  ‘So she came after midnight?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Shella said. ‘The seventh day of the second third of winter, year five-oh-five. In the Holdings calendar anyway.’

  ‘Have you got a name, miss?’ Bedig said.

  ‘I do. I tried to think of one that would work in both Holdings and Kell, so I’m naming her Karalyn. Karalyn Holdfast.’

  ‘May I hold her?’ Celine asked.

  Daphne leaned over and passed her the baby, who was sleeping again. Bedig handed her a cup of tea and she sat up. Her lank hair fell forward, and she noticed blood on her legs. Sweat was etched deep into every line of her body.

  She smiled in relief. ‘I think I’ll have that bath now.’

  Chapter 28

  Kindling

  Outside Rahain Capital, Rahain Republic – 19th Day, Second Third Winter 505

  A cold dawn wind gusted across the face of the snow-clad mountain, its peak vanishing into a low bank of clouds. Deep beneath the rock under Killop’s feet was the underground capital of the Rahain. The sun rose behind him, as he led his clan down the slopes from the high pass where they had camped overnight.

  He squinted into the bright field of dazzling white. The snow covered everything, and would have reached their thighs, were it not for the wide
skis they had strapped to their boots.

  They were moving quickly, almost running, his eight hundred Kellach warriors, and his one hundred Rahain, black specks against the background. Killop was at the front, with Lilyann. The girl was quiet when they were on the move, and he sensed her rising nervousness as they approached the western ridge that ran above the gatehouse where scouts had seen preparations for battle take place.

  They had left their wagons on the other side of the mountain, risking everything for speed. The scouts had reported the presence of an enormous Holdings army, with divisions of heavy cavalry, forming up on the snow fields west of an entrance into the city. The Rahain forces were also present, their infantry ranks lined thick and wide before the great gate.

  The Kellach Brigdomin allies had been seen, several thousand strong, marching to the north of the Holdings cavalry. Another group had appeared to the south, with twice as many warriors as the Kellach, but the scouts had not recognised them.

  Lying in wait for these grand armies, the scouts had said, were the city defences, a row of artillery units, heavy catapults, and smaller ballista, capable of hurling steel bolts as large as pikes.

  Killop began to hear a low roar come over the wind, the sound of cries and metal.

  Larissa sprinted up to him, the young boy mage following in her tracks.

  ‘Take Dean and your companies, and attack from the far side,’ Killop said. ‘Begin the assault as soon as you see smoke.’

  ‘Aye Chief,’ she said, then peeled off to the right, her arm raised. ‘Eagle and bear,’ she cried. ‘Follow me.’

  Four hundred warriors diverted from the path, and ran after Larissa, across the shoulder of the ridge.

  Killop nodded to Kalden. ‘We need to get closer.’

  They kept running, down the slope due west. Ahead, they saw a scout crouching by the top of a cliff. She waved to them. The noise of battle was now unmistakable.

  ‘Chief,’ she nodded as Killop neared the edge. The warriors of Kalden’s companies slowed to a halt behind him on the hillside.

  Killop crouched in the deep snow by the scout, and looked over the cliff. Below was a long, wide terrace, cut into the side of the ridge. On it were dozens of machines, launching boulders, or loosing bolts down off the ridge and into the great mass of soldiers on the plain beneath. Great holes were being ripped through the Holdings lines before they could even engage the Rahain forces, the front lines of which were visible over the edge of the ridge.

  Killop glanced at Kalden and Lilyann.

  ‘Build the fire.’

  Each warrior in Kalden’s two companies had been carrying a bundle of firewood, gathered from one of the last forests they had passed through on the way to the capital. They dumped it all in a pile on a low flat space twenty paces from the edge of the cliff.

  ‘You ready?’ he asked Lilyann.

  She kept her eyes on the great plain below, where the Holdings army was advancing, despite the terrible damage being inflicted from the ridge. She was wearing a long black coat, and was hugging herself.

  She nodded.

  ‘Nothing fancy,’ he said. ‘Just drop it on their heads.’

  ‘Aye, Chief,’ she whispered, looking anxious and younger than her fifteen years.

  ‘Wood’s ready,’ Kalden said.

  Killop walked over to the shoulder-high pile of branches.

  ‘Reinforce Larissa,’ he said. ‘There’s no way down the cliff from this side.’

  ‘Aye, Chief.’

  As Kalden walked away, Killop gestured to Tiel.

  ‘Guard the fire mage,’ he said. ‘Form a wall around her, and don’t let anything get close.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Tiel called his Rahain shieldwall down from the hillside, and they formed their ranks around Lilyann, Killop, and the unlit bonfire, their shields and crossbows facing outwards.

  Killop gazed over the plain. Shining cavalry troopers were being cut down as they charged, by the incessant attack from the ridge. Over to the left, he saw the unidentified force, on foot like the Kellach, racing across the snow.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ Lilyann said.

  ‘Giving Larissa time to get into position.’

  ‘Every moment you wait, more down there are killed.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Don’t you care?’

  ‘I care.’

  ‘I don’t think I can do this.’

  ‘You can,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen you do it.’

  ‘The cavern was easy compared to this. This is too much.’

  She closed her eyes and shook her head.

  ‘And I’m a mess. ‘

  ‘You’re a Kellach Brigdomin fire mage,’ he said. ‘Black suits you.’

  ‘What if I fail?’

  ‘You might,’ he said. ‘So what? Everyone fails sometimes. You pick yourself up and try again.’

  He walked over to the unlit bonfire, and knelt on the snow. Lilyann joined him as he raised his hands by the woodpile.

  ‘Did you ever spark for Keira?’ she asked.

  ‘A few times,’ he said. ‘Mostly when we were younger. Her power was too much for me, I had to stop.’ He turned to her. ‘I know your sister died in the war. Was she a sparker?’

  Lilyann shrugged. ‘Never got a chance to find out. She died before I knew I was a mage.’

  He beckoned her over. ‘Come on then. You light the fire from me.’

  ‘Do you mean that, Chief?’

  ‘Of course. I trust you.’

  Her eyes widened. He thought she was going to refuse, but she nodded, and got closer.

  He focussed, and felt the energy build in his hands. He brought them closer together until the palms were almost touching, and the space between ignited in a burst of sparks. He pulled his hands a foot apart, and lightening arced across the space.

  Lilyann frowned, her face set hard in concentration, and raised her right hand.

  Killop closed his eyes as her power met his.

  In an instant he remembered the first time he had sparked for Keira, when they had been sixteen, not long after she had returned from being trained in the mountains. The energy she had unleashed that day had nearly killed him. He had been unconscious for three days, and weakened and blind for several more after he had awoken.

  This time, the force from Lilyann was lesser, but he still felt the pull, the tug of his life being sucked out towards the flames. The sparks between his hands coiled and combined, and Lilyann shot a flash at the bonfire, and it erupted into flame.

  ‘Ha!’ she laughed, her voice like a brass bell.

  He opened his eyes, extinguishing his power.

  ‘That was amazing,’ she said, grinning. ‘I could feel you, I could feel the energy flowing out from you into the fire, and I took it, and used it…’

  She gazed at her hands.

  Killop stood, his head pounding and his mouth dry.

  ‘I can do this, Chief,’ she said.

  He nodded, and stood back, the bonfire blazing. The snow was melting in a circle around the flames, and Lilyann started to pace, flexing her fingers. She walked to the edge of the cliff, peered down, then returned to the fire.

  She stretched out her arms, and began to raise them. A ball of flame the size of a wagon lifted up and hovered over the young mage. Sweating and straining under the burden, she flung her arms over her head in the direction of the terrace, and the fireball followed, soaring through the sky like a shooting star.

  Killop ran to the edge as the fireball smashed into the ground below, landing between two catapults, and setting both alight. Rahain soldiers ran in terror, some on fire. At the far end of the terrace he could see signs of another disturbance, as Larissa’s warriors attacked.

  He smiled. ‘Perfect, Lilyann. Again.’

  He turned. Lilyann was down on one knee, her head lowered, while the bonfire raged behind her. He ran back, and helped her up.

  ‘Again,’ he said. ‘Further if you can.’

 
; She stumbled, and he held her upright. He reached into a pocket and removed a small flask.

  ‘Drink,’ he said.

  He held it to her lips, and she took a swig.

  ‘You can do it,’ he whispered.

  ‘I might pass out.’

  ‘Keira used to all the time, it’s all right. There are a hundred soldiers up here guarding you, and I swear I won’t leave your side.’

  She nodded. ‘Hold me up.’

  He gripped her under the shoulders, and she raised her arms again. Another ball of fire climbed into the air. She staggered, but Killop kept her on her feet. She swung her arms, and the fireball roared up and over the cliffside. An explosion burst into the air when it landed, and cries of terror followed.

  ‘And again,’ Killop said.

  She was weakening, but raised her arms once more. The bonfire was lower, its fuel more than half-consumed, and the ball she managed to raise was smaller than before. She let out a scream, and hurled her arms towards the cliff-edge, and the fireball shot through the air, further than the others had. It smashed into a massive catapult near the centre of the terrace, sending burning fragments of wood flying out into the throng of Rahain soldiers around it.

  ‘Fucking shot, Lilyann,’ Killop cried, but the mage was unconscious.

  He called Tiel over, and the Rahain commander summoned a squad. They made up a pallet on the snow for Lilyann, with a canopy overhead, and Killop laid her down. Sentries stood at each corner of the shelter, as she slept inside.

  ‘She did it,’ Tiel said, his eyes on the flames coming from the terrace below.

  Killop watched his warriors charge through the terrace below them, disabling more catapults, and taking command of others. On the great plain before the gates, the army of Holdings cavalry was already reacting to the shift in the balance of the battle. Lines of armoured horses were thundering across the gap towards the Rahain shield wall.

  Tiel slapped him on the back. ‘You’ve done it too, Chief.’

  The foremost spearhead of cavalry pierced the Rahain shieldwall, and they swept out of view under the lip of the ridge.

  A whistle sounded from their left.

  Regular Rahain soldiers were running down the left side of the ridge towards them, a black mass against the dazzling snow.