The Magelands Box Set

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘What are they waiting for?’

  ‘That’s what worries me,’ Killop said.

  ‘A signal, maybe?’ she said. ‘Or a pre-arranged time?’

  ‘Arranged with whom? This is the only way into the estate.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  He frowned. ‘We sent out scouts after we arrived, to map the extent of the estate’s borders. They reported that there were no paths through the mountains.’

  She bit her lip.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The New Free will have Holdings mage-priests with them,’ she said. ‘If there’s any possible way through, they’ll have found it.’

  He turned to face south, and her eyes followed his to the mountains on either side of the valley. The grey light was darkening, as the sun slipped down to the west behind deep clouds.

  ‘A small raiding party might make it through,’ he said, his eyes dark. ‘It’s what I’d do.’

  ‘You stay here,’ she said. ‘I can go back to the mansion.’

  ‘You fit enough to run?’

  She smiled. ‘I’ve a well of battle-vision I haven’t tapped yet. I’ll be there in an hour.’

  They embraced. ‘Look after yourself,’ he whispered.

  ‘You too.’

  She pulled herself away and descended the ladders to ground level. She stretched her legs and rolled her shoulders. Her left arm was stiff in the chill air, and she wrapped her cloak tightly around it.

  She gazed ahead at the road. The mansion was eight miles from the border post, up a long gentle slope. She drew on her battle-vision, took a breath, and started running. The cold air rushed past her face, but she ignored it, concentrating on the road and nothing else. She skirted the eastern side of town and joined the main road south that ran alongside the river. She was nearing the first bend when a crippling current of fear erupted in her head.

  She fell to her knees and skidded across the gravel, ripping her leather leggings.

  She shielded her mind as she landed, and reached out for Karalyn. She found her daughter’s thoughts as they searched for her, flailing around in a panic. Their minds locked.

  Daphne looked through her daughter’s eyes. The mansion. Bedig. Fire.

  She got to her feet, her knees bloody, and surged her battle-vision.

  I’m coming.

  It was getting dark when she arrived within sight of the mansion, but her vision-assisted eyes captured everything. Flames were billowing out from the windows of the upper storeys, while a great crowd stood about, watching. Her eyes scanned the faces as she sprinted closer. She caught a glimpse of Bridget, organising lines of people with water buckets extending down to the river. She smiled as she picked out Bedig, who was holding Karalyn while they watched the flames. Behind them was an enormous pile of boxes and crates rescued from the mansion, while the bodies of slain New Free fighters lay scattered around the courtyard.

  Daphne rushed through, and took Karalyn into her arms.

  ‘Kara-bear,’ she said, kissing her and holding her close. ‘I’m here.’

  She looked over at Bedig. ‘Thanks. Are you all right?’

  He nodded. His clothes stank of smoke, and he had burns on his arms and hands.

  Bridget walked over.

  ‘Daphne,’ she said, her eyes red.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘About sixty lizard bastards,’ she said, shaking with rage. ‘Came from the south, fuck knows how they got round us. Attacked the mansion with firebrands. We got them all, but we couldn’t stop the fire spreading in time to save the building. Managed to get some of your stuff out.’ She pointed to a pile of bags and boxes.

  ‘Never mind that,’ Daphne said. ‘Was anyone hurt, or killed?’

  Bridget shook her head. ‘The Rahain bastards came ready to die. They threw themselves at the mansion. Most of them didn’t make it halfway to the walls before we’d cut them down, but too many got close enough to throw their torches.’

  They gazed up at the burning building, the heat washing over the crowd.

  ‘Where’s Laodoc?’ said Daphne.

  Bridget looked at Bedig. ‘You saw him get out, didn’t you?’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘What?’ Bridget cried. ‘You said you saw him.’

  ‘I did,’ Bedig said. ‘He was in his room when I was grabbing as much stuff as I could carry. He said he would follow me.’

  ‘And did he?’

  Bedig shook his head. ‘I don’t know, I’m sorry. I was too busy looking after Karalyn to notice.’

  Daphne looked up at the top storey of the building. Over half of it was aflame. She steeled herself, and shot a line of vision to an open window, and looked inside. Her sight rushed down the hallway, and into Laodoc’s room, where the old man sat in silence, his hands folded across his lap. Outside his door, the fires were approaching.

  Laodoc, she said, entering his mind.

  Daphne, my dear. I’m going to miss you.

  What are you talking about? Get up. You can still escape through the western stairwell.

  He shook his head.

  Don’t give up.

  My life is over, he said. Both of my sons are dead, and my country is in ruins. Promise me this though, my dear, promise me you’ll find Douanna and kill her.

  Daphne pulled her vision back and glanced at Bedig.

  ‘Can you look after her again, please?’

  ‘Why?’

  She passed him Karalyn and pulled on more battle-vision.

  ‘Because I’m going in there to get Laodoc.’

  ‘Daphne, no,’ Bridget said. ‘If Laodoc’s still up there, he’s dead.’

  ‘He’s not.’

  She ignored the continuing protests from Bridget, and judged her reserves of vision power. She ripped off a section of her tunic and tied it round her nose and mouth, then tucked her hair into the back of her cloak.

  Daphne sprinted for the building, dodging between the crowds, and ran in through the front entrance, ducking past the flames belching out from an open doorway. She reached the western stairwell, still untouched by fire, and bolted up the three flights of stairs, her heart hammering. She kicked open the door at the top and a gust of fire rushed over her as she flung herself to the floor. The passageway was in flames, fire flowing up the walls to meet at the ceiling.

  Keeping herself low, she pulled her cloak over her head and ran for Laodoc’s bedchamber.

  Inside, flames had reached a bookshelf by the door, and smoke was filling the room. Laodoc was sitting on the bed, his eyes closed.

  ‘Move!’ Daphne screamed. She ran to the bed and pulled his arm as he looked up in surprise. ‘Come on.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ he cried. ‘Leave me to die.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m your friend, and I’m not leaving without you.’

  Flames leapt across to another bookcase, and the heat in the room increased. She coughed.

  ‘All right,’ Laodoc frowned. ‘I’ll not have your death be the last thing I see.’

  He got up, and Daphne pulled his arm, dashing for the door as fire took hold of the room. She skidded to a halt in the passageway. The fire had spread to the stairs, and a funnel of flame was emerging from the broken door.

  ‘Dammit,’ she said, backing into the bedroom, Laodoc’s arm in her grip.

  She looked around the room. The fires had not yet reached the windows, and she hauled Laodoc over and flung open the shutters.

  ‘Climb onto my back,’ she said, peering out. They were over-looking the courtyard, and the crowd lay spread out below them, standing well back from the flames.

  Daphne waved, and someone in the crowd saw her and cried out.

  She turned back into the room.

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Climb on. Now.’

  The old man bowed his head, and grabbed hold of Daphne round her shoulders. She bent her back as he clambered on, but he was lighter than she had been expecting, and her battle-vision was still powering her. She swu
ng a leg out over the window ledge, and the cries of alarm from below were audible above the roar of the flames.

  Daphne extended the climbing claws built into her left wrist-guard, and edged out of the window, getting a foothold in the wide grooves between the stones. Laodoc swung on her back, grasping her, his legs dangling, as she began climbing down the outside of the mansion. Flames rippled across the face of the building, swirling closer as she lowered herself and Laodoc block by block.

  Her mind shrank away from the searing heat, and the smoke, and the pain screaming from every muscle, but her limbs kept moving.

  Halfway down, she felt arms plucking Laodoc from her back and she looked down. Two ladders had been raised, and Kellach were at the top of each. Laodoc was transferred to a tall woman, who put the old man over her shoulder and descended the ladder.

  ‘You next, miss,’ said a man from the other ladder. ‘Climb on.’

  ‘I can make it on my own.’

  The Kellach man nodded. ‘All right. I’ll be a few steps below you. I’ll catch you if you fall.’

  She summoned the last of her strength and followed the man down. Kellach were gathered round the bases of the two ladders, and as soon as everyone was on the ground, Laodoc and Daphne were put onto stretchers and carried away from the fires.

  Daphne was set down by the edge of the courtyard, and Bridget knelt by her side, as Karalyn burrowed in to hug her mother.

  Bridget held a mug of water to Daphne’s lips and she drank.

  ‘Can you find me somewhere to rest?’

  ‘Sure,’ Bridget said. ‘We’ll put you in one of the cottages close by.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You crazy cow,’ Bridget said. ‘You did it.’

  Daphne shut her eyes and held her daughter close as her stretcher was lifted, and she was asleep before they had reached the cottage.

  She awoke in a strange bedroom, with Killop sitting on the bed next to her, his boots off and his feet up. Karalyn was sitting on a wide chair, her eyes on Daphne.

  ‘Good morning,’ Killop said. ‘How you feeling?’

  ‘Not bad,’ she said, stretching. Her back ached, as did every muscle in her arms and legs. ‘A bit sore.’

  He shook his head and passed her a tray from a table.

  Daphne smiled. ‘Breakfast?’

  ‘More like lunch,’ he said. ‘It’s nearly noon.’

  ‘When did you get here?’

  ‘A few hours after you. In time to see the mansion burn. Bridget told me what you did.’

  He frowned at her.

  ‘What else could I do?’ she said. ‘I couldn’t leave him to die.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, ‘but I’m glad I wasn’t there to see it.’

  ‘How is the old guy?’

  ‘Not doing so well. He’s resting in bed.’

  ‘I think he might have given up.’

  Killop nodded.

  ‘What happened at the border?’ she asked.

  ‘About half an hour after you left, the New Free attacked. They didn’t get far. They’re not a proper army, they didn’t know what they were doing. The stumps in the clearing broke up their lines, and we hit their front ranks with arrows. The rest ran away.’

  ‘Just a diversion.’

  ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘Looks like their target was the mansion all along, and they must have thought there was a chance of getting at you and Laodoc as well. I came up here after the last of the New Free had fled back into the forest. We passed Dean and Liam on the way. The lad was disappointed to have missed it, but I think he was relieved as well.’

  ‘And the mansion?’

  ‘Gutted. Will have to be knocked down. We’ll clear the ground and rebuild it.’

  She gazed at him while she ate, unable to tell if he truly believed that.

  ‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘The clan leadership’s having a meeting.’

  ‘I’ll come. I know I can’t vote, but I’d still like to listen.’

  ‘Aye, if you’re up to it.’

  She swung her legs out of bed, her joints aching. She grimaced.

  ‘I will be after a quick smoke.’

  Bridget had set up a long table in one of the cottages that flanked the courtyard opposite the blackened shell of the mansion. The herald sat near the head of the table, with Dyam, Draewyn, Brodie and Brynt flanking her. Daphne walked in behind Killop, and she noticed Draewyn raise an eyebrow in her direction. She smiled, and took a seat at the far end of the table by the window.

  Killop strode over to Bridget, and sat down next to her.

  ‘Chief,’ Bridget nodded. ‘Daphne. We’re meeting to decide what to do after last night’s attack. We’ll go round the table. Chief, you first.’

  ‘We finish the palisade, and guard the pass over the mountains that the raiding party took. Losing the mansion is a blow, but there were no casualties, and we can rebuild it later if we choose to. The New Free are a disorganised rabble…’

  ‘Not so disorganised that they couldn’t plan a raid through the mountains in winter, and burn the big house to the ground,’ Brodie said.

  ‘Quiet,’ said Bridget. ‘You’ll wait your fucking turn.’

  Brodie scowled.

  ‘It’s true they must have a Holdings mage-priest with them,’ Killop went on, ‘but their fighters are untrained and undisciplined. They won’t be able to break into the estate again if we finish the wall and guard the mountains.’

  Daphne noticed more than one present shake their heads.

  ‘Thanks, Chief,’ Bridget said. ‘Me next. We should evacuate Slateford immediately, and lead the Severed Clan to the haven in Domm.’

  Killop’s face fell, and he clenched his fists on the surface of the table.

  ‘We tried,’ Bridget went on. ‘Slateford was a great idea, and we did the best we could, but Rahain is in the middle of a vicious civil war, where both sides fucking hate us.’ She glanced over at Killop. ‘We need to cut our losses. We have wagons and transports to carry everyone, and enough food for the journey. If we stay any longer, we’ll eat our way through the reserves, and we won’t have enough to get to Domm. We need to leave now.’

  She turned to Brodie. ‘You next.’

  ‘I’m with you, Herald,’ he said. ‘I’m sick of Rahain. I want to go home.’

  Bridget nodded. ‘Draewyn?’

  ‘I think we should wait for spring,’ she said.

  Daphne glanced at the Domm woman in surprise.

  ‘If we decide to leave then,’ Draewyn went on, ‘we’ll be able to hunt and forage, and the weather will be kinder for the old folk who’ll be coming along. And I don’t like the idea of giving up, not at least without a fight. The attack last night was just meant to frighten us, and I don’t scare easily. I vote with the chief.’

  Bridget nodded, her lips pursed. She turned to Brynt.

  ‘I vote to go,’ he said. ‘Sorry, Chief.’

  ‘Dyam?’ asked Bridget.

  The pale, blonde woman kept her eyes down.

  ‘I think we should go.’

  Bridget blew out her cheeks.

  ‘I hadn’t finished,’ Dyam said. The table fell into silence. ‘I agree with what Bridget said, we’ll never be welcome here. We should join with our brothers and sisters in Domm. However, I’m willing to place my trust in Killop, our chief. He’s led us well. If he judges that we should stay, then I vote with him, despite my personal feelings.’

  Bridget frowned. ‘Three votes apiece. The final decision is yours, Chief.’

  Daphne gazed over the long table at Killop, who sat with his head bowed.

  ‘I want to speak to Daphne first,’ he said.

  The others got to their feet and filed out of the room.

  ‘Don’t be too long,’ Bridget said.

  When they had gone Daphne got up and walked round to Killop. She put her right arm over his broad shoulders, and waited in silence.

  ‘Damn Brig and Domm,’ he said, his eyes staring at the tabletop. ‘They set me up
. They want me to make the decision to leave.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she said, ‘or maybe it just turned out like that.’

  ‘I could order them all to stay.’

  ‘You could, but many would probably leave anyway.’

  ‘I could resign the chiefdom.’

  Daphne said nothing.

  He looked up at her. ‘I’ll not be parted from you and Karalyn again. If you refuse to go to Kellach Brigdomin, then I won’t go either.’

  She walked over to the window and sat on the ledge. She lit a cigarette and gazed out at the smoking ruins of the mansion, and the dozens of Kellach out clearing up.

  ‘You’re their chief,’ she said. ‘You have to lead them home.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘We’ll be with you.’

  Chapter 31

  The Last Time

  Outside Plateau City, The Plateau – 19th Day, Second Third Winter 506

  Agang remembered the view.

  The strong tall gates of Plateau City loomed a few hundred yards ahead of him, the great walls extending on either side. He noticed that the flags flying from the highest turrets were different. When he had led his own invasion, the Holding colours of green and gold had flown from the walls, but now the five-pointed star of the empire was emblazoned upon the flags being whipped about in the cold breeze.

  Beyond the outer walls rose the domes and towers of the imperial palace, and to its left stood the even higher pinnacles of the new cathedral.

  Agang’s wagon had been parked close to the spot where his own command tent had been based the previous year. He was no longer caged, instead his wrists and ankles had been tied to the back of the open-topped wagon. Flora sat on the bench opposite him, a yard away. Her crossbow was resting on her knees, pointing in his direction, but her attention was on the city. All around them, masses of Sanang warriors were passing, taking up their positions around the imperial capital. Those who came close to Agang’s wagon ignored him, as they were so used to the sight of him on the journey from Sanang that they had grown bored of taunting him.