‘Yes.’
‘Why is he not here?’
‘I’ll get to that,’ Daphne said. ‘Anyway, so, I met him, Killop is his name. He was a prisoner in a Rahain jail, and I had a hand in helping him escape, and…’
‘Daphne Holdfast,’ Ariel cried. ‘Are you pregnant?’
‘Yes.’
Her family stared at her, while Celine smiled and Faden shook his head.
‘Guess you just told them, then?’ Bedig whispered in Rahain.
‘She sure did,’ said Celine in the same tongue. ‘Oh, this is going to be fun.’
Chapter 8
Judgement
Mountains south-east of Rahain Capital, Rahain Republic – 15th Day, Second Third Summer 505
‘I’m a woman who loves you,’ Daphne had once said, when Killop had asked her who she was.
He remembered holding her in his arms, as they had lain on the rough mattress in his cell. They had known only a few moments together, but they were the most precious of his life.
He loved her, as if his mind couldn’t accept the fact of her death. He would always love her.
Everything else was a distraction.
‘You ready?’ Bridget said, the rushing stream having drowned out the sound of her approach.
‘Is it time?’
‘You’ve got a couple of minutes,’ she said, sitting down next to him on the sandy bank, the tree branches shielding them from the bright sunshine. ‘Everyone’s starting to gather.’
‘All come to enjoy the show,’ he muttered. ‘Hoping to see some blood.’
‘Most are praying that you win, Killop,’ she said. ‘Braug would make a shit chief, and they all know it.’
‘Then why did they vote for the challenge to go ahead?’ Killop said. ‘No wonder the other peoples think we’re savages, when we choose our leaders by seeing who can punch the hardest. Does the thug with the biggest fists always make the best chief? Stupid.’
‘Folk just want an end to the bickering,’ she said. ‘Braug and his crew have been causing problems ever since we rescued them. By refusing their challenges, you were running the risk of looking weak.’
‘After what I’ve achieved this last third?’ he frowned. ‘How could anyone think that?’
‘No one who knows you does,’ she said, ‘but Braug and his crew were only freed during the last raid. The original folk we rescued have seen you lead from the beginning, and every one of them is behind you. It’s the newer recruits that are getting uppity. It would have been a lot easier if we’d assimilated smaller groups, but we’ve gone from twenty folk to a hundred and forty in a third.’
‘This bullshit challenge is just wasting time,’ Killop said, standing and brushing the sand and dirt from his clothes. ‘So long as it doesn’t interfere with the raid tonight.’
‘It won’t if you win,’ she said, getting to her feet.
They climbed up the steep hillside to the tunnels of their camp.
Killop nodded to the young guard posted by the entrance and went in, followed by Bridget.
Inside, the main cavern was almost full. Kellach Brigdomin crowded round the walls, leaving an open space in the centre. Killop walked to one side, and every eye turned to watch him, some silenced by his presence, others cheering or jeering.
‘Chief,’ Dominic said, as Killop stepped among his officers.
Killop nodded, then pulled off his tunic, leaving his upper half naked. He held out his hands, and Draewyn started wrapping clean strips of rags round his fists. He focussed on a drab bit of wall ahead, and ignored the growing buzz of noise. The warmth inside the cavern was stifling. Usually at noon they retreated to the inner caves where it was cooler, but the entrance hall was the only space large enough to hold all of the freed captives.
‘Remember, Chief,’ Brodie said, leaning on his crutch, ‘Braug’s a sly old bastard, I knew of him back in the war. Fights dirty.’
‘Of course he does,’ Larissa said. ‘He’s Brig.’
Draewyn finished binding his fists and looked him in the eye.
‘You’d better not lose, son,’ she said. ‘I couldnae bear that arsehole as chief.’
Brodie pushed a mug of ale into his hands.
Killop took a swig. ‘Getting better. Can hardly taste the pork.’
‘I’ve got several kegs ready to open after you beat him,’ Brodie said.
Bridget barged her way to the centre of the room, carrying a long staff.
She banged it down onto the ground, and the room stilled.
‘We have gathered,’ Bridget called out, ‘because the clan have voted to allow a challenge to the chief.’
‘About time!’ a warrior cried, and a group started laughing. In their midst, Killop could see his opponent, standing next to the man who had called out. Braug was a lean, wiry man, his muscles like knots across his scarred arms and torso. A moustache perched above a set of prominent teeth, and his eyes were cunning and hard.
‘Interrupt me again ya wee bawbag,’ Bridget said to the man who had shouted, ‘and I’ll ram this staff down yer fucking throat.’
‘Show the girl some respect,’ Braug said. ‘She won’t be herald for much longer.’
‘Aye,’ Bridget replied, ‘but I’m the herald now, so shut it ya buck-toothed prick.’
Many in the crowd laughed, while Braug stared at Bridget with murder in his eyes.
‘Let’s get this over with,’ she said. ‘Braug ae Brennan ae Brig has challenged Killop ae Kellan ae Kell for the chiefdom of the clan, and his challenge has been accepted by the clan. Both of you, step forward.’
Killop strode to the edge of the open space, Larissa and Dominic by his shoulders. On the opposite side, Braug also emerged from the crowd.
‘You all know the rules,’ Bridget said, walking back to the edge of the crowd. ‘Off you go then.’
‘So, boy,’ Braug called out, ‘you finally got forced into fighting me? Couldn’t hide forever. It’s time to let the grown-ups be in charge.’
Killop watched as Braug approached.
He tried to concentrate, rolling his shoulders, and clenching his fists, when Braug sprang forward towards him. The Brig raised his foot and kicked Killop in the crotch.
Killop let out a gasp, his hands going for his nethers, and Braug punched him square in the face. He went down to one knee, and Braug punched him again, sending him flying backwards onto the cavern floor.
Through the ringing in his ears, Killop could hear the crowd roaring. He looked up, to see Braug’s boot flying towards his face.
He rolled away and scrambled to his feet, spitting blood onto the ground. The noise from the crowd grew.
A look of surprise crossed Braug’s faced for a moment, then he smiled.
They circled each other for a few turns round the open space, while the Kellach cheered and shouted.
Killop rushed him. Braug raised his fist and struck him a stinging blow to the side of his face, but he kept going, bringing his left arm up and over the Brig’s shoulder, and hauling him off his feet into an head-lock. Braug squirmed, lashing out with his hands, and beating and scratching Killop’s back.
With the Brig’s head held firmly in his left arm, Killop drew back his right fist and buried it in Braug’s face. Again, and again he punched, until he felt Braug’s body go limp.
Killop dropped the Brig to the ground, and stood alone in the centre of the cavern, the crowd around him howling in bloodlust.
Bridget approached, and banged her staff.
Before she could speak, Killop pointed at the group who had been with Braug.
‘Any more?’ he roared.
The cavern fell into silence, Braug’s old crew lowering their heads.
‘Killop ae Kellan ae Kell is the chief!’ Bridget called out. ‘The challenger has been defeated.’
The crowd let out a cheer, and people started moving into the central space, some to congratulate Killop, others to remove Braug’s unconscious body, while most headed for Brodie, who was
passing out the ale.
‘Not what I would call elegant,’ Bridget said, ‘but it got the job done.’
‘A victory of brute strength over skill and speed,’ Larissa said. ‘Chief.’
‘I thought he had ye, son,’ Draewyn said, ‘when you were flat on yer arse.’
‘He nearly did,’ Killop said, pulling the bloody bindings from his fists.
Bridget raised a hand to his face.
‘That’s some mark he gave you.’
‘He was wearing rings, I think.’
Her finger traced the wound on his cheek.
‘That’ll need stitching,’ Draewyn said. ‘At least you got yourself a scar.’
He scowled, but that made the pain worse.
‘Wee bastard,’ he said.
‘Well done, Chief,’ Dominic said, ‘that should shut up the whingers. Are we all set for this evening?’
‘Aye,’ Killop said, pulling on his tunic. ‘Make sure the warriors are ready to leave at sunset.’ He turned to Draewyn, who was threading a needle.
‘How are the preparations for moving the camp out?’
‘We could be ready to go in a day if need be,’ she replied. ‘What are you going to do with all the captives you free from tonight’s raid? The caverns are full; we can’t fit any more in.’
‘We’ll manage,’ he said. ‘It won’t be for long. The scouts will return soon, and we’ll all move out to somewhere bigger.’
‘Well,’ she said, wielding the needle, ‘you’re the chief, and you’ve the scar to prove it. Now come with me son, and I’ll see to your face.’
‘That’s fucking brutal, Killop,’ Bridget whispered, staring at the stitched-up wound on his cheek. ‘Makes you look mental.’
‘Do you remember,’ Killop said, ‘how we could look at ourselves every day in the mirrors in Laodoc’s house?’
‘Aye,’ she said. ‘Was nice to look good. For a while anyway. Now I suppose we’re back to being minging again.’
Killop stopped as the scout on the forest track ahead raised his hand. The column of warriors halted behind him, and Killop walked to the front.
‘We’re close, Chief,’ the scout said. ‘The path ahead takes us to the front of the compound, where the gatehouse is.’ He pointed to the left. ‘And that way leads to the side of the compound’s wall, and round the back.’
Killop turned. His officers were there, waiting.
‘Bridget, Larissa, Kalden,’ he said, ‘you’re with me. Dominic and Dyam, you’re in command here, swords and bows. Wait for our signal, you know what to do.’
‘Aye, Chief,’ they replied.
Killop nodded, and set off down the track to the left, the three he had selected close behind. They slowed as the trees started to thin, the sky lightening to the east.
He crouched at the edge of the forest.
‘We’ve got an hour before the sun’s up,’ he said. ‘You ready?’
They nodded.
He looked out from the edge of the forest at the long walls of the compound they were about to raid. Like many other Rahain slave-holding facilities they had seen in the area, it was undermanned and dilapidated, and their scouts had brought back detailed reports of the layout.
After checking that there were no soldiers up on the wall, he sprinted across to its base. The wall was mage-smooth, with no handholds to grip. He rested his back against it, interlocked his fingers, and braced himself.
Bridget came running from the forest, a knife in her boot. She leapt up at the wall, putting her foot in Killop’s hands. He heaved up, and she sprang onto the top of the wall, and disappeared over the other side.
Kalden came next, a sword round his waist, and a coil of rope over his shoulder.
Killop took the weight of the man in his hands, and hoisted him up and over. Larissa went last, her new longbow on her back. She was the lightest, and Killop nearly threw her over the wall.
He waited a moment, and the end of the rope was tossed over for him. He gripped it, scaled the wall, and jumped down to the soft dirt of the compound. He looked around. The layout was as the scouts had reported. To their left was the main compound building. To Killop it looked like an old Rahain aristocratic country house, like the one he had seen on Laodoc’s estate at Slateford. It was an imposing edifice, towering over the other ramshackle out-buildings in the compound. Opposite was a long wooden structure, which the scouts had reported as the location of the guards’ barracks.
Bridget gestured to their right, pointing at the gatehouse.
It was a squat two-storey stone building, built in a similar style to the mansion. On the roof Killop could see at least two Rahain soldiers, facing out into the forest, where the rest of the Kellach warriors lay hidden among the trees.
Killop moved up to the front of the small group, and they ran towards the gatehouse, keeping to the shadows against the side wall. They passed like ghosts, making no sound as they approached. The main double doors to the compound were strong, and barred with a vertical pinion that disappeared through a hole into the building above. Killop stopped at a side door, the gloom before dawn turning the sky grey. He pushed the handle, and it opened.
He drew his sword.
‘No mercy,’ he whispered. ‘Larissa, cover me.’
He ran through the door, and up the stairs that lay behind. At the top, four Rahain were in a chamber, sitting at a table, the lever to the door-pinion on the floor next to them.
Killop signalled Bridget and Kalden to the other door to take care of the soldiers on the roof, then he charged the table.
Larissa had put an arrow through one by the time he reached it.
He swung his sword at the nearest Rahain, who was trying to rise from her seat, her eyes wide with terror. The blade connected with her neck, sending her head spinning through the air. He aimed at another, to see an arrow bury itself into the man’s eye. The last Rahain stood, whimpering, his empty hands opened towards them.
‘Please,’ he said.
Killop strode forwards, and plunged his sword through the Rahain’s chest.
He sheathed his sword and knelt by the pinion. With both hands he gripped the lever, and pulled it towards him.
Bridget emerged from the other door, a crossbow in her hands.
‘Roof’s clear,’ she said. ‘Both guards are down.’
Killop nodded. ‘Gather all weapons.’
They picked up the swords and bows. Kalden joined them, another crossbow over his shoulder.
‘Let’s go,’ Killop said.
They rushed back down the stairs to the ground floor, and came out into the compound. It remained quiet and still.
Killop turned to the main gate. He pushed the pinion aside, and swung the double doors open.
‘Larissa,’ he said, ‘send the signal.’
The archer knelt by the open gates, and fired an arrow high into the sky.
‘We’re getting good at this,’ Bridget whispered as they watched the massed warriors run out from the forest a hundred yards down the road.
‘Still plenty to do,’ Killop said.
Kalden whistled. ‘Quite a sight, Chief.’
Killop nodded. The Kellach ran soundlessly up the road in ordered ranks towards them. Almost eighty warriors, of whom half had a blade or a bow. The others were making do with improvised spears and clubs, until they had better weapons for everyone.
As Dominic neared the gates, Killop motioned to Larissa to stand clear. In seconds, Kellach warriors began pouring through.
‘Dominic,’ Killop said, ‘leave half your swords with me, and take the other half to the main building. Secure the front, but don’t go in.’
‘Aye, Chief,’ he replied, and began ordering warriors off in different directions.
‘Dyam,’ Killop went on. ‘One bow squad to secure the gatehouse, the others to the mansion, cover the swords.’
She nodded, her mouth set firm, as Dominic led his half-team towards the mansion.
Killop turned to the remaining
half of the sword team. ‘Barracks.’
They followed him as he sprinted for the long wooden building opposite the gates. Along the side nearest them were four doors.
‘One squad through each door,’ Killop shouted to the warriors behind him. ‘No mercy!’
Killop ran towards the rightmost door, and reached it first. He kicked it in and burst through. Inside, in the dim grey light, he could see lines of bunks, the soldiers on each awakening, and starting to rouse themselves.
Without hesitation Killop strode to the first bed, and drove his sword through the neck of the man lying there. Other warriors entered the room behind him, and in a few minutes they had slaughtered the dozen soldiers within.
‘Get these crossbows picked up,’ Killop called to a squad leader, as he wiped the blood from his sword. ‘Get them taken to Dyam.’
‘Aye, Chief.’
Killop walked back outside, breathing in the fresh air after the stifling room, filled with old sweat and fresh blood.
There was a commotion at the front of the mansion.
‘With me,’ Killop shouted.
He came to where Dyam was positioned, holding her squad of crossbows in a line in front of the building’s main entrance.
Ahead, he saw Dominic rounding up a group of Rahain.
‘Chief,’ Dyam nodded as he passed, ‘some slaves came out and surrendered.’
Killop walked on, and reached the group of Kellach surrounding the slaves. He barged his way to the front, where Dominic was pushing an old Rahain woman to the ground.
‘There are children, please,’ the old woman was saying, in her own language.
Killop raised his hand for quiet.
‘Let me speak to her,’ he said to Dominic.
‘What are you talking about?’ he said to the slave, switching to Rahain. ‘What children?’
The woman looked stunned for a moment at the sound of a barbarian warrior speaking her tongue.
‘Inside,’ she said. ‘This is not a labour camp, it’s a children’s camp.’
‘Kellach children?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said. ‘We slaves look after them. We surrender, don’t kill us.’
The Magelands Box Set Page 55