The Magelands Box Set

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The Magelands Box Set Page 162

by Christopher Mitchell


  ‘Yes,’ Mirren said, coming to stand alongside. ‘In the daytime you can see almost the entire city from up here.’

  Daphne said nothing.

  ‘I wanted you to know, Daphne,’ Mirren went on after a moment, ‘that despite the long years of bad blood between Guilliam and I and your family, I feel it is time to heal the wounds of the past. I for one have said many cruel and hurtful things about the Holdfasts. When you next see your father, I would very much like you to tell him that I hope he forgives me, as I forgive him.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mirren, but why would you need to forgive my father?’

  Mirren raised an eyebrow, as a look of incredulity swept across her face.

  ‘Oh my,’ she said. ‘You mean to tell me that you don’t know?’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘You must be aware of the rumours,’ Mirren said. ‘Even the miners in the northern iron fields have heard the rumours.’

  Daphne felt her temper rise.

  ‘It was the most talked-about affair in the realm,’ Mirren went on, ‘Godfrey Holdfast and the Queen of the Holdings. For over a decade they brazened it out. She loved him, but refused to allow him to divorce your mother, and also refused to take a husband to get herself an heir. Guilliam hated your father for it, with a passion he rarely exhibited elsewhere.’

  ‘No,’ Daphne said.

  ‘No?’ Mirren repeated. ‘Come now, why on earth would I lie to you? I swear to you that if I had known you were ignorant of this, I would have held my tongue and said nothing. I merely assumed you knew what every other person in the realm knows. I’m sorry that you had to find out this way.’

  Daphne felt sick. For years she had believed her father’s vehement denials but, as she looked back over her parents’ relationship, and the way they had always seemed to hate each other, she knew that what Mirren had told her was the truth. She lowered her head, ashamed of feeling so stupid. How had she not realised? She needed to speak to her mother.

  Mirren touched her arm. ‘Truly, Daphne, I’m sorry. This will sound trite to your ears, but please don’t dwell on it. After all, it’s over and done with now.’

  Daphne felt a surge of hatred for her father. Liar and coward.

  She glanced at Mirren. ‘He would have left his family if the queen had let him?’

  Mirren sighed. ‘I’m afraid so. Please sit, take a moment. Would you like a glass of brandy? There’s a bottle around here somewhere.’

  Daphne sat on a plush armchair, while Mirren fetched the brandy and poured two glasses. She handed one to Daphne and sat across from her.

  ‘Cigarette?’ she said, opening her silver case.

  Daphne nodded and took one.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Mirren said, lighting the cigarettes. ‘I appear to have upset you. It was not my intention.’

  Daphne took a sip of brandy. ‘When did the affair begin?’

  ‘Not long after her coronation,’ Mirren said, ‘in four-eight-eight. When you were about six?’

  ‘Seven.’

  ‘They kept it fairly quiet for the first few years, but here in the city at least, it became open knowledge. When Guilliam found out he wasn’t too opposed at first, he assumed his sister was just having a casual relationship, but as the years passed, and she showed no sign of taking a husband, his anger began to stir.’

  ‘Guilliam made them break it off?’

  Mirren smiled. ‘No one could force the queen to do anything she didn’t want to do. No, what finally ended it was the fact that Godfrey’s children were all growing up, and presumably he was concerned about you finding out. Nevertheless, he remained very close to the queen, and used all his influence to persuade her to invade Sanang in five-oh-one. After that, I don’t believe Guilliam ever talked to his sister again.’

  Daphne shook her head. She thought about the years the affair had covered. Her father must have broken it off as Daphne herself was about to arrive in the capital to start university. She remembered being teased by some students about her father and the queen, but had always believed his denials. She wondered if this meant that her siblings knew the truth, and that as the youngest, the rest of the family had colluded to keep Daphne in blessed ignorance.

  She finished her drink, and stood.

  ‘Thank you for the brandy, Mirren,’ she said, ‘and for being honest. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get drunk with Captain Chane.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Mirren. ‘Before you go, just one more thing. I visited the Prophet this morning, for the first time since I got back. I admit that I have been wary of going to see him, as I was one of those who had been scathing about him, back when he refused to move to the Plateau with Guilliam. I should not have worried. The Prophet was perfectly gracious, and we discussed many things. When I was leaving, he asked me to pass on his request that you attend him this evening.’

  Daphne sighed. ‘To the citadel, then.’

  The night air was still and dark as Daphne crossed from the palace to the headquarters of the church. The guards and small number of servants knew her face well, and saluted or bowed as she passed. She entered the Prophet’s private apartment, where the old man was sitting hunched in a wicker chair next to a blazing fire, while a young man fed him soup with a spoon.

  ‘Good evening,’ Daphne said.

  The prophet turned to her and smiled.

  ‘That’s enough for now,’ he said to the young man, his voice hoarse and quiet.

  The young man bowed low, and left the room.

  The Prophet gestured to a chair, and Daphne sat.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ he said. ‘You know by now to help yourself.’

  Daphne nodded, and poured herself a glass of white rum.

  ‘Troubled?’ he said. ‘Ah, I see. You learned tonight of the great scandalous affair between your father and the old queen.’

  ‘Why did you not tell me?’

  ‘At first I assumed you knew, but when I realised you didn’t, I felt it wasn’t my place. Mirren Blackhold, on the other hand, has no such compunctions.’

  ‘It was a mistake,’ Daphne said. ‘Mirren didn’t mean to tell me.’

  ‘I don’t think Mirren does many things by mistake. But the reason I have called you to the citadel tonight is not to rake over old wounds. Mirren was round here today, I assume she told you that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It was beholden upon me to read her thoughts,’ the Prophet said, ‘as I knew she has seen the Emperor in person, after he had received his mage abilities. I wanted to discover if she had gleaned any insight into his strength or behaviour, but instead, I found out something considerably more disturbing.’

  Daphne leaned closer.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The Emperor is dead.’

  Daphne frowned in confusion. ‘He’s dead? When…?’

  ‘He died the moment the Creator possessed his body. The god of the Holdings has come to earth in mortal form. I saw it, as clear as day, when I looked into Mirren’s mind, and witnessed everything she had seen. His voice, his eyes, the little personal details. Mirren is right, that man is not her husband. He is the Creator.’

  ‘But you’ve been in his mind,’ Daphne said. ‘You’ve read his thoughts, his plan for the invasion. Why could you not see who he really was?’

  ‘This is what disturbs me the most, Daphne. When he was alone with Mirren, his mind was open, and his true identity was clear to me, but now he is shielding it, and if he is shielding it, it is because he suspects that others might be trying to see inside his thoughts. And if he suspects that…’

  ‘He may have been giving you the wrong information.’

  ‘Exactly. He knows that I am here, and has an inkling of how powerful you have become. I don’t believe he is yet aware that Karalyn can enter his mind, but he will assume that you or I would try.’

  ‘Who else knows?’

  ‘That he is the Creator? Just the two of us sat here, for the moment. I feel it might be unwise if we reveal the truth to others
however. Half would refuse to believe, and those who did would be too terrified to resist.’

  Daphne lit a cigarette. ‘Should we be terrified?’

  ‘That the Creator has descended from the heavens and walks the earth in the company of his creation?’ the Prophet said, smiling. ‘He views us as mere insects, mere things that he made. He cares nothing for the lives of anyone in this world, as he proved when he threw away fifty thousand soldiers in the Rakanese campaign, not to mention the tens of thousands of civilians deaths that the invasion was responsible for. And now it is the turn of the Holdings. His chosen people have rebelled against him, Daphne, and he is coming in wrath and might to destroy us.’

  He gazed at her, the smile gone from his face.

  ‘Yes, Daphne, we should be terrified.’

  Chapter 13

  In the Gutter

  Westgate, Domm Pass – 28th Day, First Third Autumn 507

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ said Flora, as Keira peered down the passageway at the rear of the tavern.

  ‘Shut it, ya numpty,’ Keira said. ‘She’ll hear us.’

  They slipped through the corridor, and opened the side door to the outside.

  ‘Fuck,’ Keira said, looking over her shoulder as the main door to the tavern opened. ‘Run.’

  Keira and Flora raced through the door and out into the rain.

  ‘I know yer there, Keira!’ Kelpie cried. She appeared at the side door as Flora and Keira reached the alleyway leading to the main street of Westgate village. ‘Yer meant to be working tonight!’

  Keira laughed, and kept running, Flora just behind.

  ‘Come back now,’ Kelpie yelled, ‘or don’t come back at all!’

  Keira and Flora ran out onto the muddy street and down the hill, away from the World’s End. They slowed as they grew out of sight of the tavern.

  ‘That was fucking hilarious,’ Keira said. ‘Did ye see her face?’

  ‘I hope she’s not being serious this time,’ Flora said.

  ‘About what, not letting us back in?’ Keira smirked. ‘Of course she will, she needs us more than we need her.’

  ‘But you’re missing another night of work.’

  ‘So what? I need a break.’

  Flora shook her head. ‘One of these times, we’re going to push Kelpie too far. What’ll we do if she throws us out?’

  ‘It wouldnae be too bad. I mean, I’m getting sick of telling the same old stories every night. Nobody listens any more, they’ve heard them so many fucking times.’

  ‘But we’ve no money. Where would we stay?’

  ‘You worry too much. There’s always my ma and da’s if we get desperate.’

  Flora frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘Are ye deaf? I said we could always stay at…

  ‘No, I heard you alright, Keira,’ Flora said. ‘My mind just refused to comprehend it. Are you telling me that we’ve been in Domm for nearly five thirds, and your parents live here? And you’ve never once mentioned them, or gone to visit them? Do they even know you’re back? Where do they live?’

  ‘Enough with the fucking questions.’

  Flora stopped in the middle of the street, the rain running down her face. She stared at Keira.

  ‘What the fuck is it now?’ the mage groaned.

  ‘Do your parents live here?’

  ‘Aye. Well, I think so. They used to anyway, last time I was in Domm.’

  ‘So you haven’t bothered to find out?’

  ‘I’m a grown fucking woman, not a wee bairn.’

  ‘Do you not get along with them?’

  Keira shrugged. ‘Come on. I need a drink, and I’m getting wet standing here like a donkey.’

  She set off again, and Flora followed a few steps behind. After another minute they reached a low, stone building, with a chimney belching smoke. Two large Kellach stood to either side of the door, above which hung a sign reading ‘Dermot’s Bar’.

  ‘Hold it,’ the tall Kellach woman on the left said. ‘I’m not sure we should be letting ye in, not after what happened last time.’

  ‘Come on, Bella,’ Keira said, ‘that wasnae my fault. Those two Domm arseholes were winding me up all night.’

  ‘Will ye behave if we let ye in?’ asked the large man on the other side of the door.

  ‘Of course I will,’ Keira said. ‘Promise.’

  The two door wardens glanced at each other, frowned, and nodded.

  ‘Cheers!’ Keira cried, and entered with Flora.

  The interior of the bar was quiet, with few patrons. A handful sat at a couple of stained tables next to the great fire that roared at one end of the room. Keira strode over to the bar, on the wall opposite the fire.

  ‘Evening,’ she said. ‘Two ales and a bottle of whisky.’

  The woman behind the bar eyed her for a few moments, then looked over at an older man who was sitting alone. He nodded.

  ‘All right,’ the woman said, and began to prepare the drinks.

  Keira waved to the man. ‘Cheers, Dermot.’

  ‘This is yer last chance, Keira,’ he said. ‘Fuck up again, and yer barred.’

  She opened her palms wide, grinning. ‘I’ll be good.’

  The man frowned.

  Keira turned to Flora and winked.

  The bar woman placed the ales, whisky and glasses onto the bar. ‘That’ll be twelve bits.’

  ‘Stick it on my tab.’

  The woman turned to Dermot, who shook his head.

  ‘Sorry, dear,’ the bar woman smiled. ‘No more credit.’

  ‘Fucksake,’ Keira muttered, counting out the coins from a pouch on her belt. ‘Here ya go, ya greedy bastards.’

  She dropped the coins onto the bar top, took the drinks, and found a table near the fire. She sat, and Flora joined her. Keira poured two large whiskies, and took a slug of ale.

  ‘That’s better.’

  She glanced at Flora. ‘What’s up with the sour face, hen?’

  Flora muttered something.

  ‘Speak up,’ Keira said. ‘Stop fucking mumbling.’

  ‘I said you’re an idiot.’

  Keira laughed. ‘Let’s hear it then, oh wise Flora. How exactly am I an idiot?’

  ‘Domm is full of refugees, people whose lives have been thrown up in the air. They’ve been torn apart from their loved ones. Sisters, brothers, children. You must have seen the countless posters, nailed to every house and shop-front on the main road, where people are searching for their relatives. Yet you’ve sat on your arse for thirds, while your mum and dad might just be a few miles away?’

  Keira wagged her finger. ‘See, that’s where yer wrong. Fuck knows where my ma and da are. I only said they were probably in Domm. Think about it, why should I spend ages searching for them? I might be looking for a year, who knows? Is it not a better idea to stay in the same place, and let them find me?’

  She sat back, smug in her certainty.

  Flora shook her head. ‘So you’re saying that this has been your plan all along? That you’ve been expecting them to turn up?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘You’re full of shit.’

  ‘Steady on,’ Keira frowned. ‘Ma parents are no fucking business of yours. Do ye hear me asking about your ma and da?’ She smirked. ‘Like I’d give a fuck.’

  Flora lowered her eyes, and she took a sip of whisky.

  ‘Keira,’ she said, ‘are we friends?’

  The mage raised an eyebrow. ‘Why are ye getting all heavy on me? We only came here for a drink, for fuck’s sake.’

  ‘Would you please answer the question?’

  ‘No,’ Keira said, ‘I fucking won’t. It’s bullshit, that’s what it is. Ye shouldnae be questioning me on shit like this. Maybe folk in the Holdings go on about their feelings and crap like that, but yer in Domm now, hen.’

  ‘I count you as a friend.’

  Keira groaned.

  ‘My only friend, in fact.’

  ‘I cannae handle this,’ Keira said, downing her whisky a
nd pouring another. ‘I’m sitting somewhere else if ye keep this shit up.’

  Flora fell silent.

  ‘That’s better,’ Keira said. ‘Now, keep yer eyes open for they bastards from before that I was telling ye about. I want to see if they’ve got anything to smoke. I’m gagging for a bit of weed.’

  ‘They haven’t been in for ages,’ Flora said. ‘They moved on thirds ago.’

  Keira shrugged as she scanned the bar. ‘They might be back, ye never know. In the meantime, let’s get manky.’

  ‘Shut that fucking door!’ cried someone as the wind and rain gusted into the bar.

  Flora shivered in the chill draught.

  The departing customer closed the door, and the warmth returned.

  ‘It’s nasty out there the night,’ Keira slurred. She squinted at the bottle of whisky. ‘Shit, we’re nearly out of the good stuff.’

  She glanced up at the bar.

  ‘Last orders have been and gone,’ said Dermot.

  ‘Fuck you,’ Keira sneered. ‘Surely ye can give us a couple more ales at least.’

  Dermot shrugged. ‘Ye can get more at Kelpie’s. I’m closing up in ten minutes.’

  Keira glanced over the remaining patrons. ‘Maybe one of these jokers has got some booze.’

  She got to her feet, swayed, then staggered towards a nearby table, where two women and three men were sitting.

  ‘Hoi,’ she said, approaching. ‘What ye doing after this? Ye got anything to drink?’

  One of the men shook his head. ‘No, Keira. We’re off to bed. Got work in the morning.’

  Keira scowled. ‘Fucking pansies.’

  She looked over the rest of the bar. In a dark corner, three men were sitting, huddled round a lamp. She strode across to them and sat down at their table.

  ‘Evening, fuckheads,’ she said.

  They gazed at her, their eyes narrow.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you lot round here,’ Keira went on. ‘You new?’

  One of the men put down his glass. ‘Who’s asking?’

  ‘Ye must be new if ye don’t know who I am,’ she said. ‘Anyway, have ye come from the Plateau, or lizard land?’

  ‘What the fuck’s it to you?’

 

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