The Magelands Box Set

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The Magelands Box Set Page 51

by Christopher Mitchell


  ‘He was a gift from Anganecht,’ Agang said. ‘Would have been impolitic to have refused.’

  ‘That awful old man?’ Badolecht sighed.

  ‘He holds the Mya tribes,’ Hodang said. ‘We need him on our side.’

  ‘I hear he’s demanding to have his forces in the front line whenever we find the Holdings army,’ Mandalecht said.

  ‘They all are,’ Agang snorted, ‘but Anganecht is pressing his case the loudest. He says it was his people who suffered the most.’

  ‘He has a point,’ Badolecht said.

  ‘Maybe,’ Agang said, ‘but it doesn’t matter. I’m going first.’

  ‘A king directs battles from the rear,’ Hodang said, ‘where he can command his forces.’

  Agang laughed. ‘The surest way to stop me becoming king is if I start acting like one. The ritual at the crossing was going far enough, I think.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Mandalecht. ‘The warriors need to see you lead the army, not skulking by the tents with the slaves and cowards.’ He glanced at Hodang. ‘No offence.’

  The chief minister glared over his ledger book at the one-eyed commander, while the rest of the room laughed.

  ‘What did you think of today, Echtang?’ Agang asked his nephew.

  ‘Honestly, uncle?’ the young man said. ‘Good for the first hour, then boring as hell for the rest of the time.’

  Agang smiled. ‘Boredom, I’m afraid, is something you’ll have to get used to. The people love their rituals, and that often means sitting still for hours at a time.’

  ‘Well,’ Mandalecht said, ‘the boring part is over, so we may as well enjoy ourselves. I was thinking of a quick visit to Drechtan Goe’s tents. I heard he has a brothel of Holdings whores.’

  Lomecht Ra, commander of two regiments, looked up from his cup of wine. ‘I wouldn’t if I were you,’ he said. ‘They’re rank, I’ve seen them. Broken. Would be like fucking the dead.’

  Mandalecht sighed.

  ‘There’s only one Holdings slave in this camp worth looking at,’ Lomecht went on. ‘Where is she, Chief? You not bringing her out tonight?’

  ‘Keeping this men-only,’ Agang said.

  ‘Pity,’ Lomecht said. ‘I’d love to spend an hour with her. Would you grant me an hour, Chief?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What about after I kill twenty Holdings soldiers? Would you give her to me for an hour then?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Lomecht, my old friend,’ Mandalecht said. ‘I think you’ve been stationed in Beechwoods too long. At Broadwater, everyone knows that Agang does not share his Holdings slaves, especially Chane.’

  Lomecht looked surprised for a moment, then nodded.

  ‘If I could say something, Chief,’ he said, ‘it seems that you’re missing a trick here. The warlords would be falling over themselves to offer you the earth for a night with Chane. You’d have them eating out of your hands.’

  ‘I’ve brought this up before,’ Hodang said. ‘The ransom we could command against the risk the slave was injured or even killed by one of them, we could practically demand half their lands in compensation.’

  ‘It could seal a bargain with the tribes south of the Tritos,’ Echtang said. ‘Their chief Badranga Lecht has already told me of his desire for her. We could let him borrow her…’

  ‘Wait,’ Badolecht said. ‘Are you forgetting that we’re talking about someone we’ve all spoken to, someone we know?’

  The group averted their eyes, except for Lomecht, who looked amused.

  ‘And Agang,’ the mage went on, ‘I expected more of you.’

  ‘What did I say?’

  The mage frowned. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘I was listening to everyone’s opinions,’ he said, scowling. ‘You are my advisers, am I not supposed to listen to what you have to say?’

  ‘And now that you have listened, what do you say?’

  ‘Nothing has changed,’ Agang said. ‘Chane is inviolate. She is not to be touched by anyone. If someone even breathes on her in a manner I find inappropriate I’ll rip their balls off.’ He looked over at Badolecht. ‘Enough for you?’

  The mage nodded.

  Agang stood. ‘I’m off to bed. I’ll pass on your regards to Chane.’

  The group laughed as he passed a pair of guards and entered his private rooms. Another set of guards stood outside a small chamber, and he entered. Inside, the room was dark, save for a solitary beeswax candle burning on a table. The bed took up most of the rest of the room, and on it sat Chane, her face in the shadows of the flickering light.

  ‘Good evening,’ he said to her as he sat on the mattress, and began pulling off his boots.

  ‘Why did you bring me here?’ she said, her voice a whisper.

  He looked blank for a moment. ‘For the company,’ he said, ‘and for your knowledge of the Plateau. A whole host of reasons.’

  ‘Was one of them whoring me out to the warlords?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You idiot,’ she spat. ‘Canvas fucking walls. Sound travels.’

  ‘Oh.’

  She snorted, and picked up a cup from the table.

  ‘I should have rebuked them earlier,’ he said, ‘but I’d never let any of them harm you.’

  ‘I know that, dummy,’ she said. ‘I know what you think. No, it was hearing the others that got me. Hodang? Echtang? I thought they… What a fool I am.’

  He took her hand. ‘These things take time to change. At least Badolecht spoke up for you.’

  She nodded. ‘I would have put money on him being the one who disliked me.’

  Agang smiled. ‘He’s long had a soft spot for you. From when you were giving instruction to my sword-masters, and he had to patch you up every night. Some of the beatings you took, he said it was a wonder you kept at it. But you did, and my army is the best trained in Sanang.’

  ‘I did it for you.’

  ‘And I’ll always be grateful.’

  ‘It’s not enough. I want more.’

  ‘What? Name it.’

  ‘I want something from you,’ she said. ‘I mean something from deep within you. Your past before we met is a complete blank to me, you have never given me anything of yourself. Oh, you’ve told me bland statements from time to time, but you are not as careful as you think, and I’ve heard you contradict yourself. I’ve listened to three different versions of your childhood, and I doubt any of them are true.’

  ‘Get me a drink,’ he said.

  He looked at her as she poured him a cup of wine. How much should he give her?

  ‘What do you want to know?’ he said, taking the cup.

  Her eyes glowed. ‘Your parents.’

  ‘Before I start,’ he said, ‘know that you are not alone. I never discuss my life with anyone, so what I’m going to tell you is because you have my complete trust.’

  She nodded, and leaned forward an inch.

  ‘I was brought up by my mother,’ he said, ‘in a women’s enclosure, until my seventh birthday. I can barely remember any of it to be honest, and I haven’t been able to picture my mother’s face for a long time.’

  ‘What happened on your seventh birthday?’

  He paused. It was hard, but he needed Chane.

  ‘My father took me away. In my tribe, that was the tradition, the boys get taken by their fathers, and learn the man’s world, following their father’s trade.’

  ‘And what did your father do?’

  He took a drink. ‘He was what I would now describe as a common bandit, running with a gang of thugs, rapists and thieves in the upper reaches of the Twinth. Causing misery to every villager that lived within ten miles.’

  ‘How did you cope?’

  ‘No, Chane,’ he said. ‘That’s enough.’

  ‘The fuck it is.’

  ‘Keep your voice lowered.’

  ‘Or what?’

  Agang narrowed his eyes. ‘What’s going on, Chane?’

  She looked away, and took a long draw on a smok
estick.

  ‘Something about this trip doesn’t feel right, Agang.’

  ‘Why? Because we’ll be attacking your people?’

  She shook her head, her eyes welling. ‘Do you think I’d be helping you if that bothered me?’

  ‘Then why?’

  ‘Because I can’t work out why you brought me,’ she said, tears falling down her cheeks. ‘I’m of no more use to you. I’ve taught you everything I know about the Holdings military, and sword-work, and map-making, and I’ve nothing left. Nothing to stop you getting rid of me whenever you choose.’

  Anang said nothing.

  She was right. What did he need her for? He had a choice. Bring her in and keep her close, or cast her aside. He weighed up his options as she watched him, her eyes puffy and suspicious.

  Maybe his advisors had a point. If Hodang thought it prudent to bargain her away then it was something he should at least consider. He thought about Echtang’s suggestion, to offer the slave to the southern tribes. Play it well, and he would be a step closer to being crowned king.

  No. The idea of another man pawing his prize possession made him feel sick. And the notion of some kind of loan was laughable, as he didn’t think he would be able to bear looking at her after she had been with someone else.

  He stood, and paced the narrow strip of floor. Chane kept silent, perhaps sensing his thoughts.

  The other option was to kill her himself, then no one would be able to have her. That was what it came down to, either share a part of himself with her, a part that she could use against him if she chose, or eliminate her.

  He gazed down at her upturned face. Her eyes were wide and tearful but her face shone in grim defiance. It would be much simpler if he desired her. Then nothing else would matter. He would gather her into his arms and kiss her and they would lie together, and everything would be better. He sat on the bed and sighed. He lacked any desire for her, but he did love her. He was stupid to feel that way, but he couldn’t stop himself. He laughed under his breath. One secret. One.

  ‘I lived with my father in the wilds of the forest for six years, maybe seven,’ he said. ‘At some point I lost track.’

  She filled his cup and he drank.

  ‘It was hard at first,’ he said. ‘I cried for thirds, or at least it felt that way. I missed my mother, and the soft life I had led. My father was hard on me, and beat me whenever I showed any weakness, and slowly I toughened. I first killed someone when I was about ten. A woman who had been caught by the band. When the men had finished with her, they gave me a blade and told me to end her life. And I did.’

  Chane put a hand to her mouth.

  ‘And so it continued,’ Agang went on, ‘for a few more years. As I grew into my teens, I began to become a proper member of the band, going out on raids with them, and taking part.’

  He paused as Chane moved closer to where he sat on the bed, resting her head on his broad chest, her arm around him.

  ‘Until,’ he said, ‘one day, when…’

  He took a long breath. The words were sticking in his mouth, but he had told her so much already, more than he had ever told anyone, except for his old slave Ethan, whom B’Dang had murdered two years before. Ethan would always have his heart, and he knew that Chane could never replace him, but he felt an urge to continue, an urge to unburden himself.

  ‘One day,’ he said, ‘I must have angered my father, I can’t remember what it was that I’d done, but he was giving me a beating, a bad one, and for the first time I fought back.’

  He met Chane’s eyes.

  ‘I killed my father.’

  Chane gripped him tighter, but said nothing.

  ‘The worst crime imaginable in Sanang,’ he said, ‘for a son to murder his father.’

  He lifted Chane’s chin with his hand.

  ‘And now you know,’ he whispered in her ear, ‘what no one else in this world knows. Would I dare give you to another man, knowing that you possess this secret?’

  She cuddled in close to him.

  Agang blinked. Relief swept through him, that he had finally shared some of his pain with another. As if he had shed a burden. Other secrets were still heaped upon his shoulders, ones he had never uttered to a single person, but the removal of one was enough for now.

  They stretched out onto the bed together, and Agang pulled a blanket over them.

  He went to kiss Chane goodnight, but she was already asleep.

  Chapter 6

  Lizardo

  Grey Mountains, Rahain Republic – 2nd Day, Second Third Summer 505

  The creaky old wagon lurched along the mountain track, a solitary Rahain holding the reins to a pair of gnarly gaien. On both sides of the path the land fell away into a series of cascading shale slopes, while across the ravines to the north and south even higher mountains loomed. Ahead, sticking out of the rocky landscape like a beacon, was a Rahain fort, sitting astride the track, with a large gate barring the way. The walls of the fort extended across the summit, blocking any further passage along the ridge.

  The Rahain kept the wagon moving, approaching the gate. Patches of sweat were emerging through his simple brown peasant tunic, as the heat of the summer sun bore down upon his back.

  ‘Halt,’ an officer shouted. Two soldiers strode forward, flanking the wagon, their crossbows primed.

  The officer scanned the driver. ‘State your business.’

  ‘Was ordered to bring this wagon to the Viyer fort, sir.’

  ‘I’ll need to see your requisition papers.’

  The Rahain peasant muttered, and pulled a bundle of folded documents from a box under his seat.

  The soldiers checked the wagon as the officer glanced at the man’s papers.

  ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Let him through.’

  The gate was pushed open, and the peasant yanked on the reins.

  He drove the wagon under the wide stone arch of the gateway, soldiers on either side keeping a close watch. There was a great clang as the iron gate was closed behind him, and he guided the wagon down a gentle slope, away from the fort.

  The track dipped after a hundred yards, and turned into a small pine forest. The peasant drove on for a few miles, then stopped the wagon, leaned across, and threw up over the side.

  ‘Good job, Lizardo,’ Keira said, withdrawing the knife point from the small of his back.

  She pushed open the wooden slats that had hidden her, and jumped down off the wagon, stretching her arms and legs. ‘Maybe I won’t kill you after all.’

  ‘I did what you asked,’ he said, vomit drool hanging from his lips. ‘Let me go. I’m nobody, just a peasant. I’ve never hurt any of your people.’

  ‘You’re aware of the concept of revenge, but?’

  He stared at her.

  ‘You fucked us over, Lizardo,’ she said. ‘As far as I see it, that makes any of you wee bastards fair game.’

  She reached for the water flagon, and drank.

  ‘Fucking weather,’ she said. ‘I’m all sweaty.’

  She looked at her captive. Her height made their eyes level, despite him sitting up on the wagon’s bench.

  ‘Here,’ she said, handing him the water. ‘Wash that crap off your face, ya manky wee reptile.’

  Keira put her foot onto the wagon’s step, and hauled herself up. She took the reins from the peasant’s hands, and flicked them, sending the wagon lurching down the track again.

  ‘How about you answer some questions?’ she said to him, ‘and I’ll take it into consideration when I decide whether or not to eat you.’

  ‘But I don’t know anything important.’

  ‘Don’t really give a fuck about the important stuff. The little things will keep me happy. Like, where is this road taking us?’

  ‘To the fort at the Viyer pass,’ he said. ‘Did you not hear me at the gate?’

  She slapped him across the face.

  ‘Did I give you fucking permission to be a cheeky bastard?’

  He put a hand to his che
ek, his eyes wide with terror.

  ‘Simple answers will do,’ she said. ‘How far is this fort?’

  ‘About thirty miles.’

  ‘How big is it?’

  ‘Maybe three thousand soldiers,’ he said, ‘and lots of slaves.’

  ‘Three thousand?’ She whistled. ‘Pyre’s arsecrack. What the fuck are that many lizards doing in the middle of the mountains? They can’t all be looking for me. I lost the army of arseholes chasing me days ago.’

  He looked at her as if she was mad.

  ‘I’m famous,’ she grinned.

  He squinted at her, before his face lit up, and his tongue flickered.

  ‘I bet you can’t wait to tell all your friends you met the fire mage,’ she said.

  He started to shake.

  ‘Fucksake, I’ll have to kill you now. Need to watch my big mouth.’ She shook her head. ‘Anyway, where were we? Aye, I remember. Why are there thousands of lizards up here?’

  ‘The tunnel,’ he croaked.

  ‘Tunnel?’

  ‘The one through the Grey Mountains,’ he said, the side of his face twitching.

  She frowned.

  ‘From Tahrana Valley to the Plateau,’ he said. ‘It’s nearly finished.’

  ‘What do they need a tunnel for? Why don’t they just fly over the mountains?’

  ‘Too high for gaien,’ he said. ‘They tend to crash at those altitudes.’

  ‘And the slaves?’ she asked.

  ‘Kellach Brigdomin,’ he said. ‘They’re the labour force, used to clear away the rubble the mages blast out of the rock.’

  ‘How many are there?’

  ‘Untold numbers,’ he said. ‘They don’t last long in the tunnels. The heat and the vapours get them.’

  Keira looked away.

  ‘How do we get round the fort?’ she asked.

  The peasant puffed out his cheeks. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘There must be a way.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he squealed. ‘I’m only sent up and down this track, I don’t know any other ways.’

  ‘We need to get to higher ground,’ she said. ‘Can’t see anything in this fucking forest.’

  ‘The trees go on for another twelve miles or so, and then the track opens out, and you can see the whole valley.’

 

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