The Magelands Box Set

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The Magelands Box Set Page 84

by Christopher Mitchell


  ‘Look what they’re doing,’ Lilyann said, pointing over by the cliff face. Killop turned his head. Hundreds of Rahain soldiers had been herded against the cliff by Sanang warriors. They were being hauled out of the crowd in groups, lined up on their knees, and beheaded. Dozens of heads lay across the muddy churned-up snow, rolling down the slope to rest in heaps in the slush.

  Killop swallowed.

  He could feel eyes gazing at him, Larissa, Lilyann, Kalden, Tiel.

  A few thirds before, he had killed surrendering Rahain soldiers without a moment’s thought or regret. Slaughtered them while they slept.

  Why did this feel different?

  His mind darkened. Without a word, he changed direction, and broke away from the marching clan, striding directly into the mass of Sanang.

  ‘The battle’s over!’ he snarled, shoving startled Sanang warriors from his path, his strength throwing some to the ground. ‘Do you fucking hear me? The battle’s over.’

  He reached the red slush where the executions were taking place, angry Sanang gathering around him.

  A Sanang in plate armour turned to face him, the officer in charge.

  He put his hand up to stop Killop, and shouted something in a strange tongue.

  ‘These soldiers are prisoners,’ Killop cried, pointing at the huddled Rahain by the cliff.

  The Sanang officer looked blankly at him, the hint of a smile on his lips.

  Someone pushed Killop from behind, and he turned and swung his fist into the face of a Sanang warrior with a loud crack. He turned back. The officer had his sword out, and was shouting something at him, the words incomprehensible, but the intent clear.

  The rumble of noise around them increased to a roar, as more Sanang gathered. They left an empty ring around him and the officer, who was swaying from side to side, his sword high. The officer laughed, and jumped at him.

  Killop, his sword sheathed and his shield hanging off his back, held his ground as the Sanang sped towards him. He sidestepped at the last second, and the powerful sword blow glanced off his chest plate, sending sparks flying. Killop grabbed the Sanang’s wrist in a tight grip and wrenched downwards. He brought his knee up at the same time and snapped the officer’s arm at the elbow, sending him screaming to the ground.

  Killop stood over him, his fists clenched.

  He realised that chaos had erupted behind him, as his clan were piling into the Sanang ranks, trying to get to him. On the other side, a troop of Holdings cavalry were hurrying towards where he stood, Sanang leaping out of their way.

  Horses burst from the crowd, wheeling about to surround him, their lances out.

  ‘Cease this violence!’ a woman shouted in Rahain from atop the nearest horse. ‘Order your soldiers to stand down.’

  Killop raised his arm. ‘Clan, halt!’ he bellowed.

  Beyond the ring of cavalry, he glimpsed his warriors pulling back.

  ‘Who are you?’ the Holdings officer cried.

  ‘I’m Killop, Chief of the Severed Clan.’

  The officer glanced at the ridge, where smoke was bleeding up into the sky from the ruined machines.

  ‘Stand aside.’

  Killop stepped back from the writhing body of the maimed Sanang. His mouth was open in a silent scream, his left hand holding his ruined right arm.

  ‘You have assaulted a commander of the alliance,’ the officer on the horse said.

  Killop shook his head and pointed at where the sword lay. ‘I objected to the massacre of unarmed prisoners. He attacked me. I defended myself.’

  Another Sanang in armour marched forward through the ranks of cavalry. He gazed down at the body of the commander, then up at Killop, his face an expressionless mask.

  He said something to the Holdings officer, using a different tongue, lilting rather than guttural, but still incomprehensible to Killop. The officer answered him, and the Sanang nodded, and replied.

  ‘This is Agang Garo,’ the Holdings officer said. ‘Lord of the Sanang. He is satisfied that justice has been done in this case.’

  Agang pointed at another Sanang, an older man, who came forward. He frowned at the injured man on the ground, then bent over him, and placed his hands on the broken arm.

  The injured officer screamed, then passed out for a second. When he came to he grimaced, but stretched out his arm, and moved his fingers. He smirked at Killop, picked up his sword, and stood.

  The Holdings officer addressed Killop. ‘Move your force back from the alliance armies, and bring your commanders to the Field Marshal’s tent. I trust there will be no more disturbances, Chief Killop of the Severed Clan?’

  He nodded.

  The cavalry about-turned, and trotted back towards the main Holdings forces camping out before the gate. Agang stood aside, and the Sanang cleared a path for Killop. He held his head high as he walked between the glowering ranks of warriors, each eyeing him with hate. At the far end, Kalden and Larissa were waiting for him.

  Larissa slapped him. ‘What the fuck were you thinking?’ She glared at him, her eyes red, then turned and disappeared into the lines of Kellach.

  Kalden shook his head. ‘Next time you do that, Chief, tell me first, eh?’

  ‘Aye,’ he said, as they entered the safe ranks of the clan. ‘I lost it back there. Sorry. Anyone get hurt?’

  ‘Just cuts and bruises,’ Kalden said. ‘I earned a few myself holding Larissa back.’

  ‘I’ll speak to her.’

  Kalden stopped. ‘If she hadn’t hit you, Chief, I would have done it myself.’ He spat onto the ground. ‘Every warrior here would die for you. Don’t waste their loyalty by running off and trying to be a hero on your own.’

  ‘Something’s changed in me,’ Killop said. ‘I couldn’t walk past, seeing what was happening, it tore at me.’

  ‘From what Bridget says, Chief,’ Kalden said. ‘It doesn’t sound like you’ve changed. More like you’re going back to the way you were, before your Holdings woman died.’

  Killop said nothing, gazing at the thick lines of Kellach warriors around him, sprinkled with the few Rahain soldiers left. Tiel caught his eye, and bowed his head, a smile on his lips.

  ‘Let’s get clear of these other armies,’ Killop said, ‘until we know where we fit in.’

  Kalden nodded, and started shouting out commands. As the warriors formed up, Lilyann came over to him.

  ‘That was stupid,’ she grinned, ‘but I’ve never been more proud that you’re the chief.’

  ‘You feeling all right, mage? That was almost a compliment.’

  They picked up the pace, and the clan began marching away from the cliffside, across the battlefield. Holdings troopers were out in groups, roaming the churned-up land, checking for survivors. Wounded were being loaded onto carts, and swords and armour collected.

  ‘I saw their mage,’ Lilyann said. ‘It’s the only explanation of how that man’s arm was healed. He must be a mage.’

  ‘So they have healers,’ Killop said.

  ‘I hate them.’

  ‘They’re probably just like everyone else.’

  ‘I laughed when you broke his arm, but.’

  He glanced at her. ‘Get yourself ready, mage,’ he said. ‘You’re coming with me to meet whoever’s in charge.’

  She frowned. ‘How long have I got?’

  An hour later, Holdings troopers in shining armour escorted Killop, Larissa, Lilyann and Tiel through canvas anterooms towards a tented hall. They had scrubbed themselves with snow, removing the blood and muck from their clothes, and had pulled brushes through their tangled hair. Even so, Killop felt filthy and worn amid the glinting splendour of Holdings steel and finery.

  They entered the hall. It was half-full, with groups standing, talking, and troopers spaced out against the walls. At the end of the hall was a platform, upon which had been set a long table, where eight sat. Two had the dark skin of the Holdings, two were Kellach, two were Sanang, and the final pair were shorter than the others, with large, wide eyes.
Rakanese, he guessed.

  A stout old Holdings woman in uniform got up from behind the table, and beckoned them closer. The people in the hall hushed as they approached the platform.

  ‘I’m Field Marshal Howie,’ the woman said, ‘high commander of the army of the realm, and one of the council of eight, who lead this alliance, blessed by the Creator.’

  Killop and the others halted before the platform.

  ‘I’m Killop, Chief of the Severed Clan.’

  ‘Greetings, Chief of the Severed Clan,’ Howie said. ‘After witnessing your feats upon the ridge this morning, I should be welcoming you with garlands, as the heroes who allowed us to break through the enemy lines. Instead I find I’m reading reports of your assault upon our Sanang allies. You have also brought Rahain soldiers into our camp, provoking unrest and unease among the alliance troops.’ She sat, sighing. ‘And finally, we have reason to believe that you are harbouring a known criminal.’

  Killop shook his head. ‘My clan’s not under your command. We came to your aid because we believe you’re here to overthrow the Rahain government, and free the slaves. The Severed Clan is open to Rahain as well as Kellach Brigdomin, and our Rahain soldiers fought and died to defend the clan’s fire mage. The same fire mage that saved your army.’

  The room fell into silence.

  ‘And where is your sister?’ Howie said. ‘I don’t see her here with you.’

  ‘You’re mistaken,’ Killop said. ‘I’ve no idea where Keira is, and haven’t seen her for a year.’ He gestured to Lilyann. ‘Here’s the clan’s fire mage.’

  Several of the council of eight spoke to each other in different languages, some angry, others shaking their heads.

  ‘This girl?’ said the Holdings man sitting next to Howie. ‘You expect us to believe that she’s a fire mage?’

  ‘I don’t care what you believe.’

  ‘Chief Killop,’ the Kellach man said to him. He was the tallest at the table, towering over the others. Next to him was an old Kellach woman. ‘I am Duncan, chief of the Plateau Clan. Have you come to atone for your sister?’

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘I don’t know what she did. I’ve heard the stories, but until I speak to her in person, I won’t judge her.’

  ‘She has been condemned by the King of the Holdings,’ the Kellach man said.

  ‘And what is he to me?’

  ‘He is the lord of this world,’ the Holdings man at the table said. ‘His word is law.’

  ‘You saying it doesn’t make it true.’

  Howie raised her hand. ‘Please,’ she said, ‘this is a meeting of friends. We all fought on the same side today. To ease your mind Chief Killop, let me say to you that you were correct in your earlier assumption. The alliance is indeed here to free slaves. We have already freed them in their thousands, as we have advanced down from the Plateau.’

  ‘You’ve freed Kellach Brigdomin?’

  ‘We have, wherever we have found them, although I admit they’ve not been as numerous as I’d been led to believe.’

  ‘Rahain is a vast land,’ Killop said, ‘and my people are scattered to its four corners, working in the mines and fields. Many have died.’

  ‘Two hundred thousand were transported here during the war. How many would you estimate remain?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Our troopers are entering the Rahain capital city as we speak,’ Howie said. ‘Once we control the government, we will issue orders to enforce emancipation throughout the Rahain Republic, and send soldiers to anywhere that disobeys. You have my word on this, the word of the council.’

  Killop nodded.

  ‘Now,’ Howie said, ‘will you join us in the alliance?’

  The room stilled. Killop glanced at his companions.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I will take the clan back to our city. We’ve done what we came to do.’

  Chapter 29

  Regime Change

  Rahain Capital, Rahain Republic – 20th Day, Second Third Winter 505

  It seemed as if the entire city was on fire.

  Smoke choked the tunnels, and billowed through the vast caverns, searching for exits in the scorched ceilings. Marble statues lay broken in blackened fragments, statues that had stood for thousands of years, or so Agang had been told. Mobs of the lower Rahain classes roamed the aristocratic districts, hunting for those who had been their masters just a day before. Alliance soldiers let them pass unmolested, and stood aside from the acts of cruel retribution. Fighting was still going on, in the central government area, and in several lower cavern systems deep under the heart of the mountain, but the battle for the capital was over. Nearly eighty thousand alliance troops were occupying the great city, but it wasn’t enough to maintain complete control. The mobs ruled the parts the soldiers couldn’t reach.

  Agang had followed his regiments into the capital, through the ruined archways gatehouse where, he had been informed, the King’s Combined Battalion had held out for sixteen days, under the command of the Holdings mage Benel, a name already being whispered in tones of hushed awe by alliance troopers. He had opened the tunnel through the Grey Mountains, and now he had secured the entrance into the capital. Of the audacious hero, there had been no sign when Agang had passed through the gatehouse. Benel had pushed on into the city as soon as the back of the Rahain army had been broken on the plains outside the entrance.

  Benel wasn’t the only one the army owed. Agang had been impressed by Killop, the rogue Clackdomyn chief. Without the destruction of the terrace artillery, he doubted the alliance would have been able to pierce the Rahain lines. Agang’s leading regiments had been mauled by ballista bolts and great boulders had wiped out dozens of his warriors at a time. It had been the one moment of the entire campaign where Agang had seriously contemplated failure. He had lost over a thousand warriors before Killop’s child-mage had set the terrace alight, and it had only been with the utmost self-control that he had kept his face steady when he had encountered the giant Clackdomyn chief standing over Lomecht. His impulse to embrace the barbarian, kiss him, shout and cheer, he had kept in check, aware of the hostility towards Killop from the warriors in Lomecht’s regiments.

  His commander was still furious. He had been humiliated in front of his own men. He wanted revenge, and he wanted Agang to make sure he got it. It had been Lomecht’s companies that had suffered most from the artillery bombardment, and he had seen the massacre of the Rahain prisoners as his due reward. Agang had kept him to the rear of the invasion of the city, bringing Mandalecht’s fresher regiments through the gatehouse first, where they had been directed onward by the Holdings officers who had taken command of the half-demolished entrance.

  The battle had raged through the night, but the hearts of the Rahain were already beaten, and many had surrendered, or thrown down their weapons and fled. Loyal forces still held out in pockets, and some had escaped into a network of narrow service tunnels that stretched in a web between the main routes, sniping at alliance troopers from above, and then scuttling off before anyone could get to them.

  Agang and Mandalecht passed the remains of a barricade halfway along a wide tunnel. Bodies of slain Rahain lay scattered on the ground, and a fire crackled away in a guardroom to the right.

  ‘Not far now, Chief,’ his commander said.

  ‘How many defenders are left?’

  ‘There are a few hundred in the main cavern ahead,’ he said as they walked, a guard escort flanking them. ‘Most are inside the senate complex. It was built to be defensible and the Holdings have lost a few troopers trying to get in. We could just burn it to the ground, but General Harkin said that they want the building as intact as possible.’

  Agang snorted. ‘For Laodoc?’

  ‘Seems so, Chief.’

  They passed by a line of injured Sanang warriors, groaning and bleeding on the tunnel floor. The hedgewitches had been pushed to exhaustion, and several warriors would die before the mages would recover enough to begin healing again.

>   The tunnel opened up into the greatest cavern Agang had ever seen, so vast he reckoned the entire mass of Plateau City could fit inside. He stopped, and gazed up at the enormous buildings. Two dominated. The larger, to the left, had a series of overlapping domes piled upwards, and was ringed with battlements and towers. The smaller one was about the size of the Holdings King’s palace, and had dozens of slender spires reaching up to the cavern roof. Around them were wide streets, laid out with edifices that would have been the grandest to adorn any city, but here were lost among the profusion of built stone.

  ‘The heart of the Rahain Republic,’ said a voice next to him.

  He turned.

  A Holdings officer was approaching through the ranks of Sanang warriors formed up in lines by the exit to the tunnel.

  ‘It’s quite something, Lord Agang,’ he said. ‘Monumental, in fact.’

  ‘Indeed, General Harkin,’ Agang nodded, ‘though I’ve seen ants do something similar.’

  The general raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I assume that’s the senate building?’ Agang said, pointing at the largest structure.

  ‘It is,’ Harkin said. ‘Our forces have it surrounded.’

  ‘Then what do you need us for?’

  Harkin pointed at the lesser of the two great edifices.

  ‘I would be most obliged if you would deal with that building there,’ he said. ‘The chambers of the City Council. It would save me from having to look over my shoulder after I order the advance on the senate. Once you occupy it, you can use it as your headquarters.’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Good chap,’ Harkin said. ‘It appears to be lightly defended, maybe even abandoned, but you should watch your step in there all the same, my lord.’

  Agang frowned.

  Harkin saluted. ‘Time to oust the Rahain government.’

  He turned and strode with his two officers back towards the senate, where thousands of Holdings troopers were assembled.

  Agang nodded to Mandalecht, and the Sanang regiments were soon on the march. They followed a wide boulevard through the centre of the cavern, past high-pillared mansions and official buildings, then took a junction leading to the smaller of the two great complexes.

 

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