The Magelands Origins

by Christopher Mitchell

  They all stood for a moment, gazing west in the direction of Meadowhall, out over the area where four thousand Kell had been slaughtered.

  ‘You’re like bairns to me,’ the chief said. Kalinda stood at his side, while the others gathered round. ‘All of Kell is my family. Everything I have done is for Kell and its people, and what I do now is no different. Tomorrow, we shall continue on towards Meadowhall, where I will treat with the Rahain, and offer our surrender.’

  ‘Treat with them?’ Keira cried. ‘We can’t surrender, Chief, they’re savages!’

  ‘They are not,’ he said. ‘Look at their machines, their weapons. People that can make such things are hardly savages. They’re a civilised nation. I have met with them before, I know they can be reasoned with.’

  Killop looked up. Met with them? He studied the faces of those gathered around, but only Keira looked surprised.

  ‘When?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve met with them a few times over the years,’ the chief said. ‘The last time was just before the invasion of Northern Kell. The first that came to us were friendly, curious even. I met with them at Blackwatermill, at the far northern edge of Kell. They brought gifts, I offered a few in return, we ate dinner, and then they went away. They came back every couple of years, and we went through the same ritual, sharing food, exchanging gifts, but the last time they came, there were new faces among them. These new faces had greed in their eyes, and started to make demands. They wanted access to our mountains to dig for coal and metals, and I politely told them no.’

  He sighed.

  ‘They got angry, and said some things my interpreter didn’t understand, but we got the gist, and that was that. They walked out and left. That was the last contact I had with them, except for one last message that arrived before New Year, from one of the more sympathetic Rahain among the merchants who’d visited us. The message was a warning, that we should prepare for an attack in spring.’

  ‘But still, Chief,’ Keira said. ‘Surrender?’

  ‘I will go to Meadowhall,’ he said, ‘and meet with their generals. To them I will formally offer the surrender of the Kell. I will ask the Rahain what they want, and I shall give it to them. We are defeated, but if we fight on, we shall be destroyed.’

  ‘And what about the Lach?’ Lana said.

  ‘I’ll offer the surrender of Kell, but I’ve no right to speak for the other clans. I will ask the Rahain to limit their conquest to Kell, as we have all the coal and metal ores they could possibly desire.’

  ‘I’m going with you,’ Klannit said.

  ‘Aye,’ the chief said, ‘of course. I’ll need you and Kalinda by my side for the negotiations.’

  ‘I’ll also go, but not to surrender,’ Lana said. ‘I have no desire or authority for that, but I’ll ask the Rahain what their intentions are towards the Lach, and see if a peace is possible.’

  ‘I’m coming too,’ Keira said.

  ‘No,’ the chief said. ‘I don’t know how the negotiations with the Rahain shall proceed, and until I do, I won’t be revealing your existence to them.’

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised his hand to silence her.

  ‘No, lass. No, mage,’ he shook his head, his face lined and weary. ‘If the Rahain decide not to stop at Kell, then the other clans will have need of you. When we get within sight of Meadowhall, we will go on, and you will wait for our return. These are my orders.’

  Keira stared at him, her face contorted with emotion. ‘Aye, Chief.’

  The next morning was overcast and grey, the skies heavy with the promise of rain. The three injured survivors of the battle had left in the night, shambling off down the road. At dawn, the rest of the group crossed the great wide ford of the Upper River in silence, and climbed the long gentle bank on the other side. The countryside was quiet and still. No more fleeing refugees were seen as they continued west, and the fields were empty. At noon the skies opened, and a torrential summer squall drenched them. The road turned to mud, and they plodded on through it. The rain started to falter as the afternoon wore on, and the sun shone through the breaks in the cloud. Shafts of sunlight lit up the countryside in bright green wherever they fell, contrasting with the grey lands in the shadow of the cloud cover. The brighter areas grew larger and joined up as a westerly wind blew the rainfront eastwards. The green land steamed and glistened as the warm summer sun shone down.

  This beautiful land, Killop thought, this land I love.

  They camped near an abandoned barn that night, and headed out the following dawn.

  As the mist lifted, they came to the upper end of the broad valley where Meadowhall stood. As they looked down towards the town, the sky above was filled with birds circling and descending. Beneath them on the valley floor were thousands of corpses, sprawled, piled and scattered across the ground. Up on the ridge where they stood was a long, low ditch that marked the defensive position of the Kell army before it had charged. Several large boulders had ploughed through the soft ground, piercing the ditch in a dozen places. In the distance, past the field of dead, lay the town of Meadowhall, the largest settlement in Southern Kell. Its sturdy stone walls had been reduced in many places, and the north-west tower had collapsed. Nothing moved near the town except the swirling flocks of birds.

  ‘Here’s where we leave you,’ the chief said to Keira. ‘Take the squads out of the valley, and wait for us back at the barn. We shall return tonight, or tomorrow.’

  ‘Let me come,’ she said. ‘I’ll burn those scaly bastards, burn them all to fucking ash.’

  The chief smiled. ‘You might still have to, my mage.’ He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘You are the hope and dream of Kell.’

  The group that was going with the chief separated themselves from the others.

  The chief was taking his young aide, Klannit was taking Kai, and Lana was taking Lachlan. Kalinda stood by them with her staff gripped in her old hands, exhaustion and resignation etched over her face.

  ‘Don’t get up to any mischief,’ said Klannit, as they turned towards the town.

  The remaining warriors sat on the rise of the ditch, and watched their leaders leave.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re surrendering,’ Conal said.

  ‘I’m not,’ said Keira. ‘Fuck that.’

  The following morning, a little before dawn, Keira led the squad down the mist-filled valley towards the town. Killop knew that the chief had ordered them to stay at the barn, but when his sister had suggested they go, no one in either half-squad had disagreed, and none would stay behind.

  They negotiated their way through the mist, avoiding the corpses littering the field, bloated and mottled, and rancid with sickly rot after five days outside in the rain and sun. Killop heard a few of the younger ones throw up as they passed the bodies. He had wrapped a cider-drenched rag around his lower face in an attempt to keep the stench of death away, but he felt his gorge rise as they crept through the grey light of dawn. At first the corpses they came across were Kell, lying in their hundreds, riddled with crossbow bolts. As they approached the town, they came to the lizards’ front line, and the identity of the scattered bodies changed from Kell to Rahain. The wounds borne by the lizards were from swords and axes, and several had been struck by longbow shafts. They slid down into a low gully when they got in sight of the walls, and halted. The bottom of the gully was thick with dead Rahain, and the Kell clung to the side of the grassy bank, keeping low in its shadow. Keira crawled over to where Killop was.

  ‘Wee brother,’ she said, looking down at the Rahain corpses below them, ‘at least Conor balanced the books. Looks like a couple of thousand lizards got their arses handed to them.’

  Aye, Killop thought, but it was nowhere near enough.

  She pointed towards the town, where one of the Rahain machines stood. There were bodies around it, and it looked damaged, its long central throwing beam wrenched from its housing, and lying next to it on the ground.

  ‘That’s where we want to be,
’ she said. ‘We get up there, we’ll have a clear view of the gates.’

  Killop nodded.

  He whispered the orders down the line, and they scampered along the side of the gully, until the Rahain machine lay between them and the town. The fifteen warriors snaked their way up the slope, then ran in a crouch towards the machine. The wooden base was huge, and they huddled against its side.

  To the east, the sky was brightening, and their view of the battlefield improved.

  ‘Look,’ said Kallie as they hunkered down by the machine. She pointed to the west side of the valley, where there was a whole area with no bodies. Next to this empty space several vast pits had been cut into the bloody and trampled grass. The edge of the closest was only fifty paces from where they hid. As they looked, the sun’s first rays shone over the low hills behind them, lighting up the battered eastern side of the town. Atop the remaining battlements, Rahain soldiers stood at guard, looking out over the walls. Above the north tower, a large square of white cloth was hanging, shining in the dawn light, and fluttering in the breeze. In the middle of the square was the black shape of a high, rugged mountain, roughly triangular, and above were seven golden stars, with the one above the mountain’s peak the largest, twice the size of the others.

  A hundred paces in front of them, the great gates of Meadowhall started to swing open. Two dozen Rahain soldiers emerged, each armed with a shield and crossbow. In their wake came a much larger number of Kell, old folk dressed in rags, with a few older children here and there. All were bound at the neck with chains, and they shuffled out of the gates with their heads lowered.

  Kallie gasped, and down the line to his left Killop heard a few others curse.

  The chained Kell were followed by a further dozen soldiers, each with crossbows levelled. At a shout, they started to move off towards the centre of the battlefield. The soldiers fanned out and formed a wide circle, the eastern edge of which lay only two dozen paces from the machine behind which they were crouching. The backs of at least half a dozen Rahain were now within bow range. In the centre of the circle, the Kell began hauling bodies towards the pits, and throwing them in.

  Killop turned and squatted down with his back to the machine.

  ‘Old folk and children in chains,’ he said, his heart filling with despair.

  Kallie took his hand. ‘We’re not beaten yet. Don’t give up.’

  He nodded, steeling himself in front of the squad.

  There was a noise at the gates, and he looked out again towards Meadowhall. Six Rahain were leading a cart out of the town, towards the soldiers and Kell by the pits. Stacked on the back of the cart were bodies, limbs hanging and lurching as the cart jolted over the grass. As it came closer, Kyleen, the leader of Klannit’s half-squad, let out a muffled cry.

  Killop’s eyes scanned the cart, and his stomach sickened as he saw the limp body of Kai, her brother. He was lying on top of the pile, blocking the identity of the corpses stacked beneath him.

  The cart was being driven to the pit that was closest to them, and the warriors huddled by the great wooden machine as it drew near.

  ‘Archers, crossbows, get ready,’ Killop whispered down the line. He unsheathed his sword, keeping the blade low, and hauled his shield down into position. The cart trundled closer.

  Although the bodies beneath were obscured, Killop saw Lana ae Lachlan lying face down next to Kai on top of the stacked pile. He turned away, leaning against the base of the great machine. It rose to the height of a yard, and above that wooden pillars held up the posts, beams and chains of the reptiles’ mechanism. The gaps between the posts looked near perfect as shooting positions, and the five Kell with longbows, and the same number with crossbows, were crouched and ready, waiting for his signal.

  He glanced at his sister. She had her sword drawn, and her shield on her left arm.

  The cart stopped in front of the throwing machine and Killop raised his hand. Next to him Kallie was leaning with her back to the machine, an arrow notched. Their eyes met, and she mouthed I love you.

  He lowered his hand. The ten Kell with bows turned and leaned through the gaps in the wooden posts above the base, and Killop and Kyleen scrambled to their feet and rushed round the right hand side of the machine. As they ran, Killop heard a whistled thrum, and a second later eight Rahain soldiers were down. Some were propelled backwards, while others fell where they stood, bloody hands clenched round the bolts lodged in their stomachs.

  Keira, Lacey and Conwyn were racing round the other side of the machine, and they reached the wagon at the same time as Killop and Kyleen. Every Rahain soldier that had been near lay sprawled with an arrow or bolt through them. Kyleen sheathed her sword and reached up with both hands, hauling her dead brother from the cart.

  His body toppled onto the ground, and she knelt by him. Four crossbow bolts protruded from his chest. Killop looked up at Lana – she had been killed the same way.

  He started to pull the bodies from the cart, the others joining in. In the distance he could hear shouting from the chained slaves, but paid no attention, his senses filled with the sight and touch of the dead, as they searched through the corpses. Keira shouted, and she and Lacey pulled the body of the chief from the back of the bloody cart.

  Killop rushed over.

  The old man’s throat had been slashed, and blood covered his front.

  ‘My chief,’ Killop said, his voice nearly breaking.

  ‘The others are here too,’ Conwyn cried. ‘Kalinda, Klannit…’ He jerked and sobbed, then raised his sword, his expression fierce. ‘Kill them all.’

  ‘Aye,’ Keira growled, her face twisted in rage. ‘Those reptilian bastards will rue this treachery.’ She looked down at Killop. ‘Wee brother?’

  ‘No,’ he said, fighting down his own rage. ‘There are fifteen of us, and over ten thousand of them. We fight them here, we maybe even kill hundreds of the bastards, it won’t matter, we’ll be dead, and we’ll have lost.’

  Keira stepped up close to him, and pulled him to his feet.

  ‘I’m not fucking surrendering,’ she screamed in his face.

  ‘Neither am I,’ he said, pushing her away. ‘We get the fuck out of here, and harry the lizard bastards all the way to the Brig Pass. There, we can link up with the Kylanna twins. There are still seven thousand Lach coming, and when they face the Rahain, I intend to be standing alongside them.’

  Lacey pulled at Keira’s arm. ‘He’s right, boss, we should go.’ Over her shoulder Killop could see fresh Rahain units emerge from the gates, and form up into ranks of shielded crossbows.

  Keira stared at her brother in disgust, before her expression fell into grudging acceptance. She stooped down next to the chief’s body, stroked the hair away from his face, and closed his eyes.

  She stood. ‘Let’s go.’

  Chapter 26

  Hit and Run

  Hills east of Meadowhall, Kell – 27th Day, Second Third Summer 503

  ‘I cannae believe you gave that useless wee twat a crossbow,’ said Keira, as they watched the young Lach warrior fumble and drop his weapon on the path below them.

  ‘There was nowhere else I could put him,’ Killop said. ‘I figured that if the most stupid Rahain soldiers could use one, then wee Leckie was at least in with a shout.’

  ‘He’s aye been clumsy,’ said Lacey.

  ‘Just make sure he never points that thing at me,’ Keira muttered.

  Kylon, who was in charge of the crossbow team, started shouting at the lad as they trooped down the grassy bank towards the swift-flowing burn. Crouched up on the hillside, Killop and Keira watched the team get into position; hiding among the enormous boulders that lay strewn across the narrow valley floor.

  The Rahain supply caravan they had observed the day before would be coming up the path on the right, on the near side of the burn that split the valley in two. Down to their left, the path crossed over the flowing water via a small wooden bridge, before meandering up the valley on the other side. The
five armed with crossbows were hidden about twenty paces upstream, where they could aim at anyone crossing the bridge.

  A stick with a ribbon tied round the end poked up from behind a boulder.

  ‘That’s Kylon in position,’ Killop said.

  ‘Braw,’ Keira said, relaxing back onto the grass in the warm morning light. ‘Now we wait.’

  He glanced down at her. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed at peace. There was no visible sign of the strain they had been under in the twenty days since they had run from the gates of Meadowhall. They led the squad now, she and he. And it was one squad, as those who had been with Klannit had integrated with the others, including the Lach twins. While Keira, as mage, was nominally in charge, she had left it up to Killop to organise the squad, and he had divided them into three crews. Kylon had the crossbows: Clara, Conal, Koreen and Leckie, while Calum resumed his old role as crew leader, looking after their longbows: Kallie, Kelly, Calman and Kalma.

  That left five. He and Keira commanded, while Lacey was now inseparable from the mage’s side. Kyleen and Conwyn had been with Klannit for years, and had never known any role except for bodyguard. With his loss, they had taken it upon themselves to protect the mage and, by extension, Killop. Kyleen had given herself the job of watching his back, and followed him around everywhere. Catching any time alone with Kallie had always been difficult, but now days could pass without any intimacy between them.

  Conwyn behaved in the same manner towards Keira, shadowing her. Though they never mentioned Klannit, Killop suspected they felt a weight of guilt that he had died while under their protection.

  The five without bows waited on the hillside. To Killop’s right, Kyleen stopped eating her apple, her eyes scanning the path down the valley.

  ‘Movement,’ she said.

  Killop signalled over to Keira, who nodded, and spoke to Lacey. The young warrior sparked a taper and lit the storm lantern that she carried.