The Magelands Box Set

by Christopher Mitchell

  The group moved off. Dale led the way to a long, single-storied stone farmhouse, with thick shutters covering the windows. They walked through the main entrance into a large room, with a fireplace, and a huge dining table along one wall. In a chair next to the roaring fire, an old Rahain man was sitting.

  ‘Councillor Laodoc!’ Daphne called out. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Good evening, Miss Daphne,’ the old man smiled. ‘Such a relief to see you! I’m here to accompany you on your journey to the Holdings city on the Plateau.’

  Daphne glanced at Dale. ‘Where’s Father Ghorley?’

  ‘He’s not here, I’m afraid,’ Dale replied. ‘He did however, leave you a message, which should explain everything about former councillor Laodoc.’ He walked to an open chest on a table, and withdrew a letter.

  Daphne took it from his hands and began reading.

  Shella looked around the room, as everyone unloaded their packs onto the floor. Dale and the old Rahain man were the only ones who had been awaiting their arrival, it seemed. Jayki stood by her side and Bedig set Sami down next to her. She watched as Dale sent some guards to the kitchen to ready the evening meal. He then turned to Shella.

  ‘I have prepared a room for you, ma’am,’ he said, clutching his hands together. ‘Do you have any luggage?’

  ‘Nope,’ she smirked. ‘Nothing but what we’re wearing.’

  ‘We’re well-stocked here,’ Dale smiled. ‘There are three wagons in the rear stables, all packed with supplies for your journey. Mostly provisions, but Father Ghorley did insist we brought along a selection of clothing. Hopefully you will find something that fits.’

  ‘Very thoughtful of you,’ she said. ‘You seem awfully keen that we travel to your capital city, Dale.’

  The Holdings officer opened his mouth, but didn’t reply.

  ‘Of course,’ she went on, ‘it’s not like we have much of a choice. Where else could we go?’

  Dale nodded. ‘And now you have another fellow traveller,’ he said, flicking his eyes over to the old man sitting by the fire.

  ‘Yeah,’ she replied. ‘Can’t wait to spend more time with a Rahain.’

  They gathered the seats and chairs round the long table, and ate a warm meal together. Shella noticed that Daphne kept to the other side of the room, talking to the Kellach. Dale had seated himself to Shella’s right, and kept up a constant stream of polite chatter, which she ignored, not even bothering to nod occasionally.

  After dinner, the wine and brandy flowed and Shella approved of both, following several thirds of enduring the rancid rice spirits they had distilled in the tenement’s basement. As the evening wore on, Shella noticed the old Rahain man glancing at her. She had avoided him throughout the meal, and he looked away when she returned his gaze.

  She got up and took a seat by the fire next to him.

  ‘So who are you, exactly?’

  ‘I am Laodoc,’ he replied. ‘Not, as Miss Daphne said earlier, a councillor. Not any more. I am a fugitive from Rahain, condemned for opposing the war against the Kellach, and the atrocity carried out against your people.’ He paused. Shella stared at him, betraying no emotion on her face. ‘Please believe me when I say,’ he went on, ‘that what happened fills me with the most profound regret.’

  For a moment Shella felt like giving in to sadness, and allowing her built-up tears to overwhelm her, but guilt and shame filled her again.

  ‘Even after I killed your delegates?’

  ‘That was you?’ he replied, the colour draining from his face.

  Shella held up her right hand, and the room stilled, as everyone turned to her in silence.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said, staring at her hand.

  ‘Maybe you should put that down,’ Daphne said.

  Shella glowered at her. ‘Or what? You might be used to everyone else obeying you, but I’m not happy being ordered around.’ She turned to Dale. ‘Does she have to come with us?’

  Dale squirmed. ‘Father Ghorley has placed Miss Daphne in command…’

  ‘Well,’ Shella said, ‘I’m not sure I care to recognise her authority.’

  Daphne tensed.

  Shella rose from her chair, and walked round the table to where the Holdings woman sat. The rest of the room remained hushed, watching them.

  ‘I’m not frightened of you,’ Shella said, a crooked grin on her lips, as she stepped up close to Daphne.

  The Holdings woman got to her feet and faced her.

  Shella hesitated, then smiled.

  ‘Two killer mages in the same room at the same time,’ she said. ‘See how they all look at us, Daphne. See the fear in their eyes.’

  Kylon muttered something in his own tongue. He took a step forward, and guided Shella back to her chair by the fire, where Laodoc was sitting, his tongue flickering.

  As she sat she saw Daphne shake her head in anger. She stormed out of the farmhouse, slamming the door behind her.

  Shella groaned. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to have to put up with her all the way to the Plateau.’

  ‘You and I will be saying our farewells in the morning, Shella,’ Kylon said, as he sat down beside her. ‘Let’s get drunk together one final time.’

  ‘More drunk, you mean.’

  ‘But first,’ he said, ‘go outside and apologise to Daphne.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She saved our lives, Shella,’ the Kellach frowned, ‘and now she’s giving up looking for Killop, to make sure you’re safely escorted to Plateau City.’

  They paused as a Holdings soldier placed a fresh bottle of brandy onto the table in front of them. Laodoc reached out, and poured himself a glass.

  ‘She doesn’t like me, Kylon,’ Shella said.

  ‘No wonder,’ he said, ‘the way you speak to people. But you’ll be travelling together for thirds. You’d better learn to get along with her.’

  ‘Then she’d better learn to stay out of my way.’

  He shook his head. ‘I know why you’re turning on everyone. You blame yourself for what happened to the Migration. Queen Obli knew nothing of what was going on before the end. She was shut up in her palace, while the whole burden of defending the city fell to you. You may have made some mistakes, but the Rahain were going to destroy the Migration, no matter what you did.’

  Hatred filled her. ‘How do we make them pay?’

  ‘You travel to Plateau City,’ he replied, ‘and present your case to the king. If anyone’s strong enough to resist the Rahain, it’s the Realm of the Holdings. Daphne and Laodoc are your allies in this. They are witnesses. Bedig will also be going with you. He told me that he has decided to follow you to the capital.’

  ‘You’re letting him go?’

  ‘He’s a free man,’ Kylon shrugged. ‘He can go where he pleases.’

  Shella nodded, then rose to her feet, picking up the bottle of brandy.

  ‘I think I’ll see how Daphne is doing.’

  Kylon raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I’ll behave,’ she said. ‘I may even be polite.’

  She walked to the front door of the farmhouse, opened it, and slipped outside.

  The evening air was cool in the gorge. Shella looked up, and noticed the seven stars shining in the eastern sky. Ahead of her, she saw Daphne alone in the darkness, sitting on a low stone wall, a red glow by her mouth.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. Daphne ignored her, her face an expressionless mask.

  ‘I’m sorry about before,’ Shella said, sitting down on the wall beside her, ‘and I realise that I’ve never actually said thank you for rescuing us, so, thank you.’

  Daphne sat smoking for a moment. ‘You’re welcome.’

  ‘I have some good news,’ Shella said. ‘Dale mentioned to me earlier that they have brought your horse. I don’t know what that means exactly, but he seemed to think it would please you.’

  Daphne said nothing.

  ‘So,’ Shella went on, ‘what’s that you’re smoking, then?’

  ‘Keenwee
d. From Sanang.’

  ‘Then how come you’ve got some?’

  ‘Kellach and Sanang bandits smuggle it through the mountains to Rainsby, and from there…’

  ‘Bandits? Do you think we’ll see any?’

  ‘I doubt it.’

  ‘Why?’

  Daphne sighed. ‘We won’t be going anywhere near the Sanang Mountains. But if you want to see wildlife, there’s plenty of it in Rainsby. Place is run by gangsters, and over-run by Kellach refugees.’

  ‘I want to make the Rahain suffer, Daphne.’

  The Holdings woman nodded, then passed her the lit smoke-stick. As Shella took it, she noticed that Daphne’s left arm was at an awkward angle.

  ‘What’s wrong with your arm?’

  Daphne shrugged. ‘Got injured a couple of summers ago, when I was fighting in Sanang. Bastard called B’Dang D’Bang crippled it.’

  ‘Crippled?’ Shella repeated, her face going red. ‘Oh Daphne, I’m sorry.’ She looked away, thinking of her brother. No wonder everyone hated her.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Daphne said. ‘My other one works well enough.’

  Shella laughed. She took a swig of brandy, then passed it to Daphne. She glanced at the smoke-stick. ‘Is this stuff addictive?’

  ‘Probably,’ Daphne muttered, and took a drink from the bottle.

  Shella shrugged, and inhaled. Nothing happened for a few moments, and then she felt her senses expand, her eyesight, her hearing, her sense of smell.

  ‘Wow,’ she said, blinking. She looked at the farmhouse, taking in the tiniest details. She gazed back at Daphne, and it was like seeing her for the first time, her nut-brown skin, and long dark hair, tied at her neck. Her green eyes shone in the starlight.

  ‘You’re actually quite good-looking.’

  Daphne almost smiled, and shook her head.

  Shella pulled on her mage powers, feeling out the currents of liquid flowing round Daphne’s body. Different from the Rahain, and the Rakanese, she thought. She drew a little more, and her senses were flooded with the complex physiology of the Holdings woman, the narcotic-tainted blood pumping around her body, the alcohol in her stomach, her organs, her heart, her womb…

  She pulled back, almost crying out. ‘This stuff’s amazing!’ she yelled, gazing at the keenweed stick in her hand.

  Daphne nodded, and took a sip of brandy. ‘Maybe you and Kylon are right,’ she said. ‘Maybe I should stay in Rahain and look for Killop. I also have some unfinished business with the woman who betrayed Laodoc and Simiona.’

  ‘I thought you had family waiting for you in the Holdings, now that you’ve been pardoned.’

  ‘I do,’ Daphne said, ‘and I want to see them, but Killop’s out there, in the mountains somewhere. It feels like I’m abandoning him.’

  ‘But you’d have to live in the wild, like a bandit.’

  ‘So?’ Daphne shrugged. ‘I’ve lived rough before.’

  Shella stared at her, her mouth opening in surprise. She doesn’t know, she thought.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Daphne asked, her eyes narrowing.

  ‘Daphne,’ Shella said. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking so much, or smoking, and I don’t think you should be living up the mountains.’

  ‘What?’ Daphne snapped. ‘You sound like my mother.’

  Shella sighed. ‘Daphne, you’re pregnant.’

  The Severed City

  BOOK TWO

  Dramatis Personae

  Holdings

  Daphne Hold Fast, Vision Mage

  Chane, Slave in Broadwater

  Rebecca, Slave in Broadwater

  Gertrude, Slave in Broadwater

  Giles, Slave in Broadwater

  Stratton, Slave in Broadwater

  Rijon, Mage-Priest

  Ariel, Daphne's sister

  Holder Fast, Daphne's father

  Vince, Daphne's eldest brother

  Faden Holdwick, Ariel's husband

  Celine, Vince's wife

  Howie, Holdings Field Marshal

  King Guilliam III, Holder of the Realm

  Mirren Blackhold, Queen of the Realm

  Prior, Chamberlain of the Realm

  Lord Vicar, Deputy to the Prophet

  Suthers, Captain, Plateau City Port

  Gunn, Captain, Plateau City Port

  Corby, Officer, Plateau City Port

  Bury, Sergeant, Expeditionary Force

  Niall, Trooper, Expeditionary Force

  Flora, Trooper, Expeditionary Force

  Benel, Mage-Scout

  Ghorley, Mage-Priest

  Harkin, General, Expeditionary Force

  Tully, Captain, Expeditionary Force

  Rakanese

  Shella, Flow Mage and Princess

  Sami, Brother of Shella

  Jayki, Shella's guard

  Torri, Ambassador to the Holdings

  Rahain

  Laodoc, Exiled Councillor

  Baoryn, Renegade

  Leon, Peasant

  Tiel, Commander, Severed City

  Likiat, Officer, younger son of Laodoc

  Riac, Noblewoman

  Ziane, Conservative Party Politician

  Ryaedic, Peasant

  Kellach Brigdomin

  Keira, Fire Mage and war criminal

  Killop, Fugitive

  Bridget, Fugitive

  Larissa, Freed Slave - bow-maker

  Donald, Freed Slave (child - 6)

  Dominic, Freed Slave - commander

  Draewyn, Freed Slave

  Dyam, Freed Slave - crew leader

  Kalden, Freed Slave

  Brodie, Freed Slave - brewer

  Braug, Challenger

  Brynt, Freed Slave - hunter

  Liam, Sparker

  Lilyann, Young Fire Mage

  Dean, Young Fire Mage

  Kylon, Fugitive

  Leah, Fugitive

  Kalayne, Crazy old man

  Bedig, Survivor from the Clan Wars

  Bronald, Warrior in Keira's squad

  Duncan, Chief of the Plateau Clan

  Laurie, Old lady in Rainsby

  Sanang

  Agang Garo, Lord of Broadwater

  Badolecht Nang, Agang's High Mage

  Echtang Gabo, Agang's nephew

  Gadang Gabo, Agang's nephew

  Mandalecht Naro, Regimental Commander

  Lomecht Ra, Regimental Commander

  Hodang Tipoe, Agang's Chief Minister

  B'Dang D'Bang, Tattooed warlord

  Toa Banga, Warlord - relative of B'Dang

  Anganecht Bristang, Warlord - Mya region

  Badranga Lecht, Warlord - south of Tritos

  Drechtan Goe, Warlord - western regions

  Brecht, Warrior

  Fang, Warrior

  Chapter 1

  Excuses

  Grey Mountains, Rahain Republic – Summer’s Day 505

  It wasn’t her fault.

  The lizards made her do it.

  Keira cracked open her swollen left eye. A watery grey light was seeping under the door. Morning again. She rolled over, her chains grating against the dark stone floor.

  They had told her everyone in the city was already dead, but they had lied.

  She had seen people running, fleeing the flames. Heard their screams.

  She clenched her fists, and blood trickled between the fingers of her right hand as the rusty nail bit into her palm. She had found it on the floor of the flying carriage the lizards had used to bring her to wherever she was being held. For days she had tried to use it to pick the locks on her shackles. When that had failed, she thought up ways she could use it to end her life.

  She was alone in a large room, and although she could hear guards outside the door, she could see no one. Everyone kept clear of her. Afraid, or maybe disgusted, she didn’t know. When she had arrived, a pair of robed lizards had told her that their government was debating what to do with her, and that she wouldn’t be allowed to see her brother until they had decided.


  She had freaked out, really lost it, and had lunged for the bastards, earning a high-end beating from the guards. Still, it had been worth it for the look of sheer terror on the faces of the two officials.

  Slashing her wrists should do it.

  She wouldn’t wait to see what the lizards decided. Either they would execute her, get rid of her, or they would force her to use her powers again.

  Fuck them.

  Let them find her dead on the floor of the cell. Ha fucking ha.

  Keira closed her eyes, and a wave of screams and flames flooded her memory, the same images of burning bodies, the same sounds of agony that had been with her ever since she had destroyed the refugee city. There was no escape from the pain, and her breath caught as she dug the nail deeper into her palm.

  Killop had been right. Part of her was relieved that she had not seen him since that day on the hills overlooking Akhanawarah. How would she be able to meet his eyes? He would hate her for what she had done. He was always the good boy, always trying to do the right thing. Pious prick.

  Another reason to end it.

  She gripped the nail between her fingers, and traced its bloody end down the inside of her left forearm. When she reached her wrist, she moved the nail back up to the soft spot on her inner elbow and ran the nail down her arm again, harder. And again, harder.

  She clenched her teeth as pain burned through her. She brought the nail up again, and hesitated, the point an inch above the scored skin. She opened her eyes. Blood was flowing from the ragged wound, but not fast enough to end her. She would need to do it again.

  Keira stared at the nail, then tucked it back into the palm of her clenched fist. She rolled over, the blood from her arm dripping onto the cold stone floor.

  Not today.

  Not yet.

  Keira lay still in the silence.

  Something was different. She tried to focus her thoughts, but was groggy from the blood-loss, and it took her a few moments to realise what had changed.

  There were no guards. She had heard the day-shift depart that evening, but not the corresponding set of boots that marked the arrival of the night-shift. No guards meant no evening meal, and no water. Without food she wouldn’t heal. Were they just going to let her wither away and die?