‘Give me that,’ he said, pointing at the pike.
Kallie stared at him, doubt and defiance on her face.
Laodoc kept his hand out, silent and patient.
Kallie reached down, and slid the pike across to Laodoc, who took it, and placed it on the floor of the room.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
Laodoc waited as Bridget was taken to the cage. Killop and Kallie rushed over and embraced her as she was led in, and the gate was locked.
‘Children!’ Laodoc called out. ‘This lesson is over. Consider carefully all that you have learned, and ponder it. Professor Niniat, please escort the students to their next class.’ He pointed down at the unconscious guards on the floor. ‘Don’t forget those two when you leave.’
As the students began to file out of the room, Laodoc put a hand on Paeotan’s shoulder.
‘Please remain here,’ he said to the boy.
Paeotan nodded, his face flushing. Guards picked up the fallen soldiers by their arms and legs, and carried them out of the room.
Laodoc sat down the moment they had shut the door behind them.
‘Such excitement certainly takes it out of an old man,’ he sighed. ‘Simiona, would you be so kind as to fetch me some water?’
‘Yes, master.’
‘Come, child,’ he said to Paeotan, patting the chair next to him. ‘Sit, and tell me everything that happened.’
The captives listened as Paeotan related what had occurred during the lesson. The old man said nothing, letting him talk. Soon, the boy was also telling him about the extra lessons he had been giving them.
‘This boy, then,’ he asked Simiona, as she handed him a glass of water, ‘is the one whose identity you were protecting, when I questioned you regarding who was responsible for teaching the Kellach Brigdomin to speak our language?’
Simiona’s face went red, and she looked away.
‘You say Kellach Brigdomin,’ Bridget said, ‘but there are no Lach in this cage, nor are there any Domm.’
Laodoc stared up at her, his tongue flickering. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I don’t know those words,’ Bridget replied.
‘I, I mean…’
‘She is making the point,’ Simiona said, ‘that we use the term Kellach Brigdomin, but that is not what they call themselves.’
‘I am Brig,’ Bridget said, then pointed at Killop and Kallie. ‘They are Kell.’
‘Ahh, so the army must have amalgamated their tribal appellations into a new compound word,’ Laodoc remarked. ‘Most interesting.’
‘What?’ Bridget said.
‘Master,’ Simiona said, ‘although their tuition has been progressing rapidly, they have not yet acquired an extensive vocabulary.’
‘What?’ Bridget repeated.
‘You don’t know all the words yet,’ Simiona said to her.
Laodoc’s eyes roved over them, taking in their tattered and filthy rags, and his nose wrinkled at the smell they were giving off. He frowned, and Killop could sense the conflicting thoughts struggle in the old man’s mind.
‘Do you have a family?’ Killop asked.
The old Rahain scowled.
‘I had two sisters,’ Bridget said. ‘They didn’t like me, and I didn’t like them, but I miss them.’
‘I don’t like my sister either,’ Paeotan said.
Laodoc frowned. ‘I have two sons.’
‘The master’s sons are very important men,’ Simiona said.
‘They are fools, Simiona, but I love them anyway. And please, call me Laodoc.’
Killop noticed the way Simiona looked nervous as well as pleased at her master’s informality.
‘No slaves in Kell,’ he said. ‘Why are there slaves here?’
Laodoc stared at Killop, his yellow-green vertically-slit eyes boring into him.
‘You have caused a lot of trouble today,’ he said.
‘They were hurting my friend,’ Killop replied. ‘What should I have done?’
Laodoc ignored him.
He stood, and walked to the front of the cage.
‘Simiona,’ he said, ‘unfortunately, it seems that you will not be getting the chance to carry out any more research on the captives, thanks to their behaviour this morning.’
‘But why, master?’
‘Come now, girl,’ he said, ‘you must realise what will happen once the children from today’s class get home and tell their parents what occurred. You can’t seriously believe that they will continue to allow such dangerous savages to be close to their little ones.’
Simiona stood. ‘What will happen to them?’
Laodoc snorted. ‘That is what I am trying to decide, girl.’
He paced up and down in front of the cage, shaking his head.
‘There is still so much to learn from them,’ he said. ‘I can’t keep them here, but if I withdraw them from the academy, they will become available for someone else to requisition and, well, I don’t like the thought of that. The new Slave Act makes it illegal for Kellach to become house-slaves, therefore that avenue is also closed to us.’
Simiona clasped her hands, trying to remain patient. Laodoc glanced over at her, and Killop thought he saw the old man’s eyes soften.
‘I could,’ he said, ‘I know, I could establish a new faculty of… of Cultural Studies.’ He began pacing again. ‘I would need to find a suitable arts professor, and commission them with researching and recording the Kellach Brigdomin language and history, for comparative purposes, of course.’ He paused, then snapped his fingers. ‘As for the location, I hardly ever go near the northern wing of my home any more, I could have it converted into secure living quarters for the captives, with teaching areas, guardrooms, and a suite of rooms for the new professor.
‘I will need your assistance with this Simiona, and your utmost discretion. No one must think for a moment that I have been swayed by sentiment.’
‘Yes, master,’ she said, ‘of course I will help.’
‘It will take a few days to arrange,’ he said to her. ‘Until the quarters are ready, I will instruct the departments here that no more lessons are to take place involving the captives. There. Does that satisfy you?’
‘Yes, master,’ Simiona beamed. ‘Thank you.’
She turned to the captives. ‘What do you think?’
‘I don’t know,’ Killop shrugged. ‘There were too many big words.’
‘In a few days,’ she said, ‘you will be moving to the master’s house. You will still be prisoners, but you will have your own rooms.’
‘No cage?’
‘No cage.’
‘A bath?’ Bridget asked.
‘Oh yes,’ Simiona laughed, looking at their filthy rags. ‘I will insist.’
Chapter 9
Cinders
Rahain Capital, Rahain Republic – 30th Day, Last Third Summer 504
Laodoc stood.
‘Lord Speaker,’ he said, ‘I am quite sure that, for once, I speak for the majority here when I say that I hope this delay doesn’t inconvenience us much longer. Like many others present, I have plans for tomorrow’s Autumn’s Day holiday, or should I say today’s holiday, as this session has now passed midnight.’
There was a low rumble of agreement from across the chamber.
As Laodoc resumed his seat, the lord speaker of the council raised his arm.
‘I understand the esteemed councillor’s concerns,’ he said. ‘Rest assured, I have been informed that the matter is of the utmost importance, and I would beg the indulgence of this chamber while we wait. I too have vacation plans I would be loath to miss.’
The semi-circular tiers of benches facing the lord speaker were filled with tired councillors, impatient to be going home or to the bar after a long day’s debating and voting. It was the final session of a five-day stretch, and they had been due to finish when word had come down from the High Senate that a matter of vital concern had been brought to their attention.
‘Nice try, Laodoc,
’ muttered Pleonim from the bench next to him, ‘but I think we’re going to be stuck here a while yet.’
Laodoc nodded. Following the dissolution of the peace coalition, and the desertion of his own party’s membership, Laodoc had spent a lonely and isolated third in the City Council. Without any colleagues to support him, he had never been picked to speak, his opinions were ignored, and his votes an irrelevance. Finally, he had pushed back his pride, and approached the Liberals. After much painful negotiation, he had been allowed to join, and had moved to sit by them, making them the largest single party in the council. This status was meaningless, however, when set against the solid alliance of the Patriot, Conservative and Merchant parties, dominant and all-powerful since the war with the Kellach.
There was movement by the doors of the large chamber, and Laodoc saw a group enter, dressed in the fine uniforms of clerks of the High Senate. They strode across the floor of the City Council, and presented a paper to the lord speaker, who put on his glasses to read.
‘I have a proclamation from our honourable colleagues in the High Senate,’ he said. Everyone leaned forwards in their seats to listen.
‘The High Senate regrets to announce that mining operations at all State Company-held locations in the occupied territories of Kellach Brigdomin have been suspended with immediate effect, following the destruction of the coal mining and storage facility in the north-eastern annexation.’
There was a collective gasp in the chamber. The facility, as was well known, had just been finished. It had cost a fortune to construct, being the single largest mining depot the Rahain had ever built. Its purpose was to store and process all coal taken from the Kellach mines, ready for shipment back to Rahain. It was also the site of an enormous colliery, one of the biggest that had been dug into the Kellach mountains.
Laodoc suppressed a wry smile. The war coalition’s promise of cheap coal from Kellach remained only that, a promise.
The lord speaker raised his hand to still the anxious chatter.
One of the High Senate officials stepped forwards, holding out an open scroll.
‘The facility,’ he read, ‘was assaulted on the eighteenth day of the Last Third of Summer, twelve days ago, by a band of barbarian renegades, led by a Kellach Brigdomin fire mage. They slaughtered the soldiers guarding the perimeter of the compound, and burned the entire stock of coal that had been collected there, estimated at approximately three and a half million tonnes.’
Several councillors cried out in shock, and Laodoc could see the horrified and desperate expressions on the faces of those who had invested in the new mining operations. He could have laughed out loud at that moment, thinking of how his shares in the decrepit Grey Mountain coal mines, which had been virtually worthless since the war had been won, would be of great value again.
‘Furthermore,’ the official continued, ‘all equipment was destroyed, including the entire minehead, which was systematically blocked, and razed to the ground. In consequence, some six hundred and forty-three miners underground at the time were asphyxiated. The barbarian rebels then fled the scene, and escaped into the nearby mountains.’
‘Shame!’ someone shouted from the benches of the Patriots.
‘Total personnel losses,’ the official went on, ‘amount to some nineteen members of the Merchant Guild, thirty-six army officers, and nine hundred and eighty-eight soldiers and miners requisitioned from the servile classes. The High Senate has this night passed a resolution, ordering a fresh requisition of ten thousand of the servile classes into the army, to be dispatched forthwith to the Kellach Brigdomin territories, to hunt down and arrest or kill the renegade fire mage, and to destroy the rebels. Major Likiat has been appointed commander of this expeditionary force, on account of his honourable record in the previous campaigns on the Kellach peninsula.’
Laodoc lowered his head, all smugness fled. His younger son, a celebrated hero of the war, had volunteered for action in the tribal lands again, this time as commander.
‘The High Senate therefore requests,’ the official concluded, ‘that the City Council release reserve funds without delay, to ensure that Commander Likiat’s forces are adequately provisioned for the season’s campaign.’
‘We get to the heart of the matter,’ the lord speaker said. ‘Do I have a sponsor…?’
Laodoc’s elder son, Ruellap, rose to his feet at once.
‘Lord Speaker, I would be honoured to make such a proposal,’ he said, ‘to release the necessary funds without delay, and also to send this chamber’s highest commendations to the esteemed commander, my honourable brother, and to wish him all the best in this endeavour!’
The benches around Ruellap roared their approval, stamping their feet and cheering.
‘Do I have a seconder?’ the lord speaker shouted over the noise.
Several Conservatives stood.
The lord speaker pointed at Ziane, their leader in the council, and the clerks noted his name for the records.
‘And a dissenter?’ the lord speaker said, looking over at the Liberal benches.
Pleonim nudged Laodoc’s arm. ‘I’ll let you off this one, old man,’ he whispered. ‘I’m not so cruel as to ask you to speak out against both of your sons.’
‘No,’ Laodoc replied, as he pushed himself to his feet. ‘A deal’s a deal. I gave my word.’
There was a chorus of exaggerated tutting and head-shaking from the war coalition benches, as Laodoc glanced at the speaker, who nodded his permission.
‘I must set aside my feelings as a father, Lord Speaker,’ he said to the watching councillors, ‘and ignore the pain in my heart as one son happily sends the other off to slaughter more ragged savages.’ There were boos and shouts of derision, but no more than he was used to. ‘We have stolen from these tribes, we have taken their land, and their lives, and their freedom, and then we wonder with amazement and anger why they would retaliate against us, as if we were the injured party. More lives thrown to the winds for the insatiable greed of men and women already rich beyond belief. More death, more waste, more futility.’ The boos and insults were growing louder now, drowning him out. He fell silent, waiting. The lord speaker thumped his fist down, shouting for order.
‘I counter-propose that we recommend to the High Senate that they think again,’ Laodoc stated, when the chamber quietened, ‘and vote to deny them the resources they request, to stop them from continuing down the foolish path they have chosen.’
The lord speaker nodded. ‘Do I have a seconder for the counter-proposal?’
For a moment it looked as if no one was prepared to support Laodoc, then Pleonim grimaced, and rose to his feet.
‘A vote is therefore called,’ the lord speaker said. ‘Those in favour of the proposal from Councillor Ruellap raise your hands.’
The ranks of benches opposite the Liberals lifted their arms as one.
‘And those in favour of Councillor Laodoc’s counter-proposal?’
The thirty-four on the Liberal benches raised their arms.
‘Councillor Ruellap’s proposal is hereby carried, by sixty-two votes to thirty-four,’ the lord speaker said. ‘Officials will be sent to the High Senate to inform our honourable colleagues of our decision. Commander Likiat is hereby authorised to use the city’s reserve funds as he sees fit in pursuance of his assigned tasks. This session is now ended. Good night, and have a most joyous Autumn’s Day.’
Everyone rose as the lord speaker got to his feet and stood down from the podium. Councillors chatted in groups as they made their way to the front doors, which were being swung open by servants.
‘Laodoc!’ he heard a woman call.
He turned. ‘Good evening, Niuma,’ he said, watching his old Hedger ally walk over from the opposite benches.
‘May we speak in private?’ she said.
‘The members’ bar?’
She nodded. They left the debating chamber, and strolled down the finely decorated corridors to the cavernous bar, where countless shadowy nooks a
nd alcoves offered as much privacy as desired.
A servant approached as they sat in a dark, secluded corner.
‘Brandy for me, my man,’ Laodoc said.
‘And white wine for myself,’ Niuma added.
‘Now,’ Laodoc said to her as the servant departed, ‘what can I do for you?’
She looked him up and down. ‘You seem to be in a better mood recently.’
‘It was a difficult time,’ he said, ‘being isolated and spurned for so long. I suppose I’m happier now I’m with the Liberals.’
That was a lie, he thought. That was not the reason.
Their drinks arrived.
‘So,’ Laodoc said, ‘how is the Merchant Party treating you?’
Niuma shrugged. ‘They’re a lot stricter than you were.’
‘I imagined that might be the case,’ Laodoc said. ‘How else is one to explain all of the old Hedgers voting the way they did tonight? Hastening the flow of coal from Kellach only hastens their own impoverishment.’
‘Believe me,’ she said, ‘not all of them are happy about it. That’s why I’m here. The Grey Mountain Mining Cartel might not be as dead as we all assumed.’
‘I thought you’d sold your stake.’
‘I tried,’ she said. ‘No one would take it. At least not at a sensible price. I know of only one ex-Hedger who sold out. He accepted a ridiculous sum, just to be rid of it. I’ll be willing to wager that he might be regretting his folly now.’
‘And what of it?’
‘What of it?’ she repeated, staring at him. ‘Well, it means that we have interests in common once again, and we may find it is to our mutual benefit if we work together.’
‘What? Reform the Hedgers? After I’ve spent the last third abasing myself with the Liberals?’ He laughed. ‘A little late for that.’
‘But, Laodoc…’
‘No, Niuma.’
She looked at him with scorn. ‘Then,’ she said, ‘you meant everything you said in the chamber, about how we stole from the barbarians, and that we were in the wrong? We all assumed you had been forced to repeat that Liberal rhetoric. We were sitting there thinking, “poor old Laodoc, being made to look a fool”, but no, you are a fool. You actually believe that nonsense. Well?’ She looked at him. ‘Deny it, then.’
The Magelands Box Set Page 12