‘Conal, ya wee bastard,’ she yelled, standing and grinning. ‘Yer alive!’
The young man gazed across the tavern at her, his mouth falling open.
‘Clear a path,’ Keira said, stepping out from behind her table. Alongside Conal were the others from the new group, and she spotted a solitary old Rahain man lurking near the back.
‘Keira!’ Conal cried as she reached where he was standing.
She embraced him, squeezing hard and lifting him off the floor.
‘I cannae tell ye how good it is to see a friendly face,’ she said, releasing him. ‘Are ye with the lot that’s just come in from Rahain?’
‘Aye,’ Conal said, ‘from Slateford.’
Keira nodded, the name meaning nothing to her.
A woman with short, dark hair stepped in front of her. ‘Hi, Keira.’
‘Who the fuck are you?’
The woman blinked. ‘I’m Bridget. I was in your squad at Fallsie Castle, and under the Fire Temple.’
‘Bridget?’ Keira squinted. ‘Oh aye, I mind ye now. A right wee sarcastic cow.’
Conal coughed. ‘She’s our chief.’
‘Was,’ Bridget said. ‘We’re in Domm now.’
A pale, blonde woman came to Bridget’s side. ‘Yer still our chief, no matter what the Domm Council says.’
‘This is Dyam,’ Bridget said, ‘my herald.’
‘Whatever,’ Keira said. She glanced over to Kelpie. ‘Talk’s over. I’m getting drunk with my old squad.’
Kelpie frowned, but nodded.
‘Come on,’ Keira said. ‘Sit with me, we’ll crack open another bottle of whisky and ye can tell me what ye’ve been up to.’
As they began to move past her, she noticed a tall red-haired man.
‘Bedig, you as well?’ Keira said, slapping the big man across his back. ‘How the fuck did you end up with these guys?’
‘It’s a long story,’ he said, grinning, ‘involving Kylon. By the way, do you know where he is?’
Keira shook her head. ‘Last time I saw the prick, we were on the Plateau. We had a fight, I might have called him a useless dipshit, and he fucked off.’
Kendrie came over. ‘Old friends?’
‘Aye,’ she said. ‘They’ll be needing food and plenty of booze.’ She glanced at the small party now sitting around her table. As well as Dyam and the three familiar faces, there were another half dozen that she didn’t recognise, including the old Rahain man. ‘Where are ye all staying?’
‘A few of us booked rooms here,’ Bridget said, ‘once we found out the World’s End tavern was hosting Keira the fire mage.’
‘See?’ Keira smirked at Kendrie. ‘Told ye I was good for business.’
She sat, and waited while bar-boys and girls filled the table with plates, ale and whisky.
‘Here’s to us,’ Keira said, raising her glass and taking a drink. ‘So,’ she said, ‘ye decided to get the fuck out of Rahain?’
‘It’s a mess,’ Conal said. ‘Slateford wasn’t safe any more.’
‘Slateford? Where the fuck’s that?’
‘It’s the estate we were living on in Rahain,’ Bridget said. ‘Laodoc here gifted it to us.’ She nodded over at the grey-haired Rahain man sitting slouched. He was the only one without a drink in his hand.
Keira eyed the folk at the table as an awkward silence fell. She narrowed her eyes.
‘Is there something yer not telling me?’
Bridget downed her whisky. ‘It’s about your brother.’
‘Killop?’ Keira cried. ‘Ye’ve seen him?’
‘I’ve spent the last three years by his side,’ Bridget said. ‘In captivity, as a rebel, then in Slateford.’
Keira’s temper burned.
‘Then where the fuck is he now?’
‘He went off after Daphne,’ Bridget said, ‘his Holdings woman. He didn’t come back.’
‘Did you look for him?’
‘We sent out a squad, but they lost track of him near the tunnel to the Plateau.’
Keira stood, clenching her fists.
‘You lost him? Ye fucking lost him?’
‘Wait…’ Bridget said.
Keira lashed out with her right fist, striking Bridget in the eye and sending her flying back off her seat.
‘Ye fucking lost ma wee brother?’ Keira screamed.
She raised her fist to strike again, but Bedig reached up and gripped her arm, and Dyam shoved herself in front of Bridget.
‘Don’t you fucking touch her,’ the blonde woman said, her eyes dark.
Keira yanked her arm free of Bedig and glared around the table.
‘Ye bunch of cowardly shitstains. If ma brother’s dead because of you, I’ll fucking kill the lot of ye.’
She picked up the bottle of whisky, and barged past Bedig.
‘Out of my way, ya prick.’
The crowd in the tavern parted in silence, and Keira strode out into the dark night sky before anyone could see the tears in her eyes.
Chapter 3
Shamed
Westgate, Domm Pass – 15th Day, First Third Summer 507
Laodoc eased past the sleeping bodies to the door of the small room he was sharing with five Kellach Brigdomin. He crept out onto the landing, descended the deserted stairs, and went outside into the bright light of morning. It was too early for the tavern staff to be up, and there was no sign of any guests, so he wandered round the perimeter of the building, until he came to the terrace overlooking the lowlands of Domm.
A sharp wind was blowing up from the west, and Laodoc pulled his cloak and scarf around him as he took in the panoramic view. The World’s End tavern sat next to the road, at the far western end of the Domm Pass, just next to where the road led down a steep, switch-backed path to the lowlands below. White clouds scudded across the sky, rolling in from the great ocean, which was out of sight over the horizon. Domm spread out beneath the terrace, a vast carpet of green, dotted with farmsteads and villages.
Laodoc gazed over the little fence at the edge of the terrace at the straight drop down to the lowlands. A hundred feet, or more.
Why had he come here? He was useless to Bridget and the others, just a sad old man who contributed nothing. Although they tried not to show it, he knew they blamed him for Killop leaving, after he had pressurised Daphne into hunting down Douanna. If only he could discover if she had been successful. If he knew Douanna was dead, then perhaps he might feel some peace. Instead, the worst had occurred. Daphne and Killop had gone, and he didn’t know if Douanna still lived.
She could be laughing at him at that moment.
Hatred billowed through him, the only genuine emotion he continued to experience.
He had fled Rahain, but he couldn’t flee from himself.
Maybe he should jump. His life was as good as over anyway. No one would miss him.
He heard voices coming from his left. Round the corner of the terrace, by the back door of the tavern, Bedig and Dyam were standing.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ Bedig said. ‘She’s inconsolable. Anything I say just makes it worse.’
‘I’m raging at that cow, Keira,’ Dyam said. ‘She fucking humiliated Bridget. If I see her today…’
‘Just stay clear of her,’ Bedig said. ‘She’s mental.’
‘And pretending she didn’t recognise her,’ Dyam said, scowling. ‘Bitch.’
‘She probably didn’t. That’s just Keira. I was a bit surprised she remembered who I was, to be honest.’
‘She thinks she’s something special.’
‘She was upset about her brother, though.’
‘But it wasn’t Bridget’s fault,’ Dyam spat. ‘She wanted to take half the clan to go looking for Killop, but Draewyn and the rest outvoted her. There was nothing she could do.’
‘I know.’
Dyam shook her head, then frowned.
‘Laodoc,’ she said, ‘you can stop eavesdropping and come over.’
Laodoc’s face reddened, and he t
urned towards them.
‘Morning,’ Bedig said.
‘Good morning,’ Laodoc said. He walked over to where they stood.
‘Sleep well?’ Dyam said.
‘Fine.’
‘Are you sure?’ Dyam said. ‘You don’t look so good.’
‘I can assure you Miss Herald, I am perfectly well.’
‘I worry about you,’ she said, ‘and so does Bridget. You’re not eating enough.’
‘I fail to see the point.’
‘In eating?’
‘In anything.’
‘Come on,’ Bedig said, ‘we’ve just survived a civil war, and we’re almost at the end of our journey.’ He pointed out over the Domm lowlands. ‘In a few days we’ll be down there, ready to begin new lives.’
‘And what is it that you think I’ll be doing down there?’ Laodoc said. ‘Farming? Milking cows? I know nothing about this kind of life, and am too old to learn.’
‘We can find you something to do,’ said Dyam. ‘How does teaching sound? I plan on setting up a few schools for the clan when we get settled. You could help with lessons in Rahain.’
Laodoc frowned, and gazed out at the view. ‘I don’t like children.’
Dyam shrugged. ‘You don’t have to do anything. You’re retired, you can put your feet up and relax. The clan will always look after you.’
He bowed his head and said nothing.
‘You could write a book or something,’ Bedig said. ‘Your biography.’
‘Autobiography,’ Dyam said.
‘Who on earth would want to read that?’
‘Me, for one,’ Dyam said.
‘I’m too bitter to write. It would come out all twisted.’
‘I’ll see about getting you paper and pencils,’ Dyam said, ‘in case you change your mind.’
Laodoc said nothing.
Bedig stretched his arms. ‘We should go in for breakfast.’
‘Do you think Keira will be there?’ Laodoc said.
‘I spoke to the owner last night,’ Dyam said. ‘After apologising, she told me that Keira doesn’t usually get up before noon. Spends her nights drinking, either in the tavern, or in her room.’
Laodoc shook his head. ‘So this is how the world’s most powerful mage spends her time? The great Keira, a violent drunk.’
Bedig shrugged. ‘So what’s new? She’s always been like that, when she’s not fighting some war.’
He opened the door, and they went back into the tavern. A large fire was blazing in a hearth to their left, and they sat at a table close to its warmth.
Kendrie walked over. ‘Porridge?’
‘Aye, please,’ Dyam said. ‘Plenty of salt on mine.’
‘Can I get an extra portion for Bridget?’ Bedig said.
Kendrie nodded and walked off to the kitchens, while a bar-girl put a jug of ale and some mugs on the table. Bedig muttered a thank you and poured himself an ale.
‘Nice,’ he said. ‘Good ale, good whisky, good food. I can see why Keira stayed.’
‘It’s just ordinary Domm stuff,’ Dyam said.
‘Maybe, but after years of Rahain and Holdings food, it tastes like the best thing ever.’
A bar-boy came over with a tray, and unloaded four large bowls of steaming porridge, a salt cellar and a pot of honey.
‘Thanks,’ Dyam said.
Laodoc spooned a large helping of honey into his bowl, while Bedig downed his ale and stood. He picked up two bowls.
‘I’ll see if Bridget’s hungry,’ he said.
‘See you later,’ Dyam said, as the tall Brig walked away. She turned to Laodoc, and eyed him as she put salt on her porridge.
‘You’re depressed,’ she said.
He said nothing.
‘It’ll pass,’ she said. ‘Might take ages, who knows, but it will pass. And until it does, we’re here for you. If ever you want to talk about anything, I’ll be happy to listen.’
Laodoc stirred his porridge, his appetite fading. He felt so worthless, he didn’t deserve their help.
‘I know you mean well,’ he said, ‘but I’m fine.’
Dyam nodded as she ate her porridge, her eyes unconvinced.
Laodoc pushed his bowl away and gazed out of the window at the clouds racing across the sky. He heard the main doors of the tavern open, and watched as a small group of uniformed Kellach entered. He glanced at Dyam, and nodded at the doors.
She turned.
The group approached the bar, and spoke to Kendrie, who pointed over at their table.
Dyam put down her spoon.
‘Can I help you?’
The group walked over and stopped in front of Dyam. A woman stepped forward.
‘We’re looking for the leadership of the Severed Clan.’
‘I’m the herald. What do you want?’
‘Apologies for disturbing your breakfast, ma’am, but we have been sent by the Domm Council at Threeways Junction,’ the woman said. ‘They have delivered their verdict regarding the legal status of the clan.’
Dyam nodded. ‘Then we’ll need to get Chief Bridget.’ She gazed over at the bar. ‘Kendrie, could we please have somewhere private?’
‘The back room should be free,’ Kendrie said. ‘Give me ten minutes to get it ready.’
Dyam turned back to the uniformed group. ‘Take a seat,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and find the chief.’ She started to walk for the door, then stopped.
‘This is Laodoc,’ she said. ‘I know he’s Rahain, but he’s a benefactor and friend of the Severed Clan. Please treat him with courtesy.’
The group took seats next to him at the table.
‘Nice to meet you, Laodoc,’ said one.
The old man said nothing, and turned to gaze out of the window.
Ten minutes later, Kendrie emerged from a side door, and beckoned towards the group of uniformed Kellach. They stood, and walked in his direction. Laodoc got to his feet, and followed them. They passed through the door and into a large, windowless chamber, with a long table and rows of seats.
‘I’ll have drinks brought through for you in a moment,’ Kendrie said as he left.
Laodoc took a seat at the end of the table, while the other Kellach stood waiting. After a few minutes, the door opened, and several bar-boys and girls came in with trays of ale and food. As they were laying them out on the table, the door opened again, and Bridget walked in.
Her left eye was swollen and a greenish-purple bruise covered her temple. She looked tired, but wore a determined expression on her face. Behind her entered Dyam, Draewyn, Brodie, Liam and Brynt, the members of her clan leadership council.
‘This is Chief Bridget of the Severed Clan,’ Dyam said.
‘Greetings,’ said the uniformed woman who had spoken before. ‘We are representatives of the Domm Council.’
Bridget nodded. ‘I understand that you bring news?’
‘We do.’
‘Please, have a drink, make yourselves comfortable.’
They sat round the table, the clan on one side, and the council representatives on the other, with Laodoc at one end. No one paid him any attention, so he remained where he was, listening.
‘The council have thought long and hard about the Severed Clan,’ the woman said, ‘and their position within Domm society. On the one hand, we wish to be fair to you, and understand that you have suffered together, in slavery, and under the oppression of foreign regimes. However, it is intolerable that any one group is ruled by a different set of laws, with different leaders. Here in Domm, we are all equal under the same law.’
‘Excuse me for interrupting,’ Dyam said, ‘but what about the Domm Highlands? Isn’t it the case that they rule themselves?’
The woman frowned. ‘It is true,’ she said, ‘that in certain highland glens, renegade Domm live outwith the control of the council. The folk up there refuse to accept any incomers from Brig, Lach or Kell, and do not recognise the council’s authority. It is for precisely that reason that we cannot tolerate another s
eparate enclave. Believe me, one is bad enough.’
‘So,’ Dyam said, ‘in practical terms, what does this ruling mean for us?’
‘We want it to mean as little as possible,’ the woman said. ‘We encourage you to hold onto your cultural cohesion. Set up your own villages, your own schools and temples, and carry on with your traditions. You can continue to call yourselves the Severed Clan,’ she paused as she gazed around the table, ‘but understand that none of it has any legal standing. The law, the courts, the militia, taxation, all of it, is under the authority of the Domm Council.’
Laodoc coughed. ‘May I ask a question?’
The woman looked at him. ‘Sure.’
‘The Domm Council,’ he said, ‘does it have people on it from the other clans?’
‘You mean Brig and so on?’
‘Yes.’
‘Aye,’ the woman said, ‘a man and a woman from each, making up eight altogether on the council.’
‘And how are these members chosen?’
‘They were selected three years ago, after we came down from the Highlands.’ She took a drink. ‘The lizards had evacuated Brig, and for the first time we felt safe enough to venture down to the High Threeways Pass. All the village elders got together and picked the eight members of the council.’
‘Are they members for life, then?’ said Laodoc, ignoring the ‘lizards’ comment.
The woman frowned.
‘Laodoc is something of a constitutional scholar,’ Bridget said, a weak smile on her lips.
He glanced at her. ‘I’m just trying to establish what kind of governmental structure has been implemented. I’m guessing that their arrangements were probably drawn up under considerable stress, and I think it quite remarkable that they have created such stability. The Domm Pass seems much more civilised than I’d been led to expect.’
‘Thank you,’ the woman said. ‘It’s not quite the same down in the lowlands. Our militia can only do so much, and the settlements down there are spread far and wide. You may have to look to your own security at times.’
‘We can handle ourselves,’ said Dyam.
‘I’ve no doubt you can.’ The woman finished her drink. ‘I think we’re finished here. I’d love to stay, and catch the fire mage speak, but we’re wanted back at Threeways Junction by nightfall.’ She stood. ‘Any questions? Is everything understood?’
The Magelands Box Set Page 148