Needs of the Empire

by Christopher Mitchell

  The faces of the staff around Sami were expressionless. Sami was fond of telling this story, and it was clear everyone present had heard it before .

  ‘She waited until the poor bastards were having breakfast,’ Sami went on, his face flushed, ‘then collapsed the fucking tent on top of them. Lines of soldiers surrounded them and shot the tent full of holes with their bows and spears. Some even crawled up onto the canvas and stabbed through it with their knives. It was fucking mad. She was fucking mad.’

  He picked up a bottle of brandy and took a swig.

  One of the staff stifled a yawn.

  ‘I thought she was going to kill me too,’ Sami went on. ‘My own fucking sister, but she needed Shella, so I got lucky. That was back in Silverstream, where…’

  Shella coughed. ‘I think that’s enough.’

  Everyone turned to her. Sami grinned.

  ‘You’re back!’ he said. ‘How’d it go at the palace?’

  ‘Not so good.’

  The staff glanced at each other, and started to get up.

  ‘Hey,’ Sami cried. ‘Where are you all going? I haven’t finished my story.’

  ‘Party’s over,’ Shella said. ‘Let them get to their beds.’

  Sami glowered as the staff bowed and left the room, leaving Shella and her brother alone.

  ‘When did you stop being fun?’ Sami said. ‘Actually, when were you ever fun?’

  Shella sat, and lit a cigarette.

  ‘Don’t start, Sami,’ she said. ‘It’s been a shit day, and I can’t be fucked listening to your crap again.’

  ‘Miserable bitch,’ Sami leered. ‘Why don’t you cheer up for fucksake? We’ve got it made here, sis, and all you do is complain.’

  ‘Fuck you,’ Shella spat. ‘All you do is abuse your position, flaunting your royal status to get laid, and using your diplomatic immunity to get pissed all the time. You didn’t have to stand in front of the fucking Emperor getting humiliated, with the entire court watching and laughing. The Rakanese are a joke to them. Wayward children he called us.’

  Sami’s face fell. ‘What did you say back? ’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Did the usual bowing and scraping.’

  Sami puffed out his cheeks. ‘Thank fuck. Thought for a moment that you’d said something stupid and got yourself fired.’

  Shella stubbed out her cigarette and stood. ‘You’re an asshole, Sami.’

  Sami smirked, and took another swig of brandy.

  She turned her back to him and left the room. She went up the rear steps to her own apartment, with her huge bedchamber, a spare room, bathroom and study among the suite of rooms. She lit a few wall lamps and drew a hot bath, the coal fires in the basement warming the water. She slipped off her clothes and got in. The hot water against her skin felt wonderful, and she slid down into the bath and closed her eyes.

  She hated everything.

  Her job, the city. Her idiot brother. Daly and all the smarmy staff. That dickhead Guilliam.

  Daphne, for leaving her.

  Herself.

  She had no one to share her pain, no one to share her loneliness.

  A noise came from her bedchamber and her eyes snapped open.

  Was that Sami? What the fuck was he doing in her room?

  She got up, the water dripping off her, and grabbed a thick towel.

  ‘Sami?’ she called, stepping out of the bath. ‘Is that you?’

  She wrapped the towel round her, and opened the door to her bedchamber. In front of her a figure was crouched by the bed.

  She raised a hand, feeling for her powers.

  ‘No need for that,’ the figure said. ‘I was only looking for your weed.’

  ‘Kalayne?’ Shella cried. ‘What the fuck? How did you get in? What are you doing here?’

  The old Kellach man stood. In his hands was her weed pouch.

  ‘How did you know that was there?’ Shella said, her right hand still raised. ‘Have you been in my bedroom before?’

  ‘Not in person,’ he replied. ‘I’ve used my vision to see you now and again. You’re a very restless sleeper, despite the copious amounts of alcohol and weed you consume.’

  Shella said nothing, her mouth hanging open. Kalayne opened the pouch and pulled out a stick. There was a little table with some chairs by one of the bay windows, and he went over and sat down. He opened a shutter a couple of inches, lit the smokestick and gazed out at the view.

  Shella tightened the towel around her.

  ‘You’ve been watching me?’ she said.

  ‘Eh, what?’ Kalayne scowled. ‘No, not often. You’re not very interesting.’

  She walked up to the table and sat. Kalayne offered her the weedstick, and she took it.

  ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘I’m moving in.’

  ‘The fuck you are. How did you get passed the guards?’

  ‘I can make people not notice me,’ he said. ‘I could make you forget I was ever here, if I wished.’

  ‘Sounds tempting,’ she said, ‘but I’d rather know you were skulking about, if it’s all the same. Anyway, you can’t move in.’

  Kalayne stared at her as if she were stupid. ‘I already have. No one else will know I’m here, so you needn’t worry about me upsetting your servants. Just make sure you bring me plenty of booze, weed and food.’

  ‘What happened to your room at Daphne’s?’

  ‘Celine kicked me out.’

  ‘So you’ve nowhere else to go?’

  ‘I could go and live in the Kellach Brigdomin quarter, but I’d rather stay in more comfortable surroundings. And I need to be close to the palace, and the new mage institute, so I can find out what’s going on. The church are moving ahead with their plans.’

  ‘I couldn’t give a fuck about the stupid Holdings church.’

  ‘You should,’ he said. ‘Their plan will affect us all. They must be stopped.’

  ‘Are you seriously speaking treason to me?’ she smirked. ‘Are you not worried I’ll go running to the Lord Vicar and report you for sedition?’

  Kalayne shrugged. ‘No. I don’t know why, but Daphne trusted you, and that lass doesn’t give out her trust lightly.’

  ‘I don’t like you.’

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I don’t like you either. We’re not friends, praise all that is holy.’

  ‘Fuck you.’

  Kalayne tutted. ‘You’re an exceedingly ungrateful wretch.’

  ‘Ungrateful? What the fuck do I have to be thankful to you for?’

  Kalayne half-choked, half-snorted. ‘Did Kylon appear from thin air to rescue you?’

  Shella blinked.

  ‘I sent him, remember?’ Kalayne said. ‘I sent him to save you. From all the hundreds of thousands of miserable toad people, I chose you to survive.’

  The old man’s eyes were bulging from his head, and he was pointing the weedstick at her like a weapon.

  ‘Why?’ she said. ‘Why me?’

  He calmed a little, and took a long draw.

  ‘I’ve seen you in my dreams,’ he said. ‘Over and over. The wall of mud, of course, but not just that. I have also seen you take part in events that have yet to occur. I don’t appear in these later visions myself, which presumably means that I’ll be dead by the time they take place. No matter, the message of these dreams is clear. You will be needed.’

  ‘Needed for what?’

  Kalayne frowned. ‘I don’t know. Something about a knife.’

  Shella watched him in silence for a moment. Daphne had trusted him, and as the old man had said, the Holdings mage didn’t trust many.

  ‘You can sleep in the spare room,’ she said.

  ‘Not in here with you?’ he leered.

  She smiled, and raised her right hand.

  ‘Did you know, Kalayne?’ she said, ‘that with a flick of my finger I could fill your brain with blood, or make your heart stop? However, for you…’ she pointed at his crotch. ‘I could make your balls shrivel back up into your body,
and do everyone a favour.’

  Kalayne crossed his legs. ‘Spare room it is.’

  Chapter 3

  King

  B roadwater, Kingdom of Sanang – 4 th Day, Last Third Summer 506

  ‘We could have done this from the Great Hall, your Majesty,’ Hodang said, casting glances at the busy street.

  In front of them, soldiers were parting the crowds of people on Broadwater’s main road. Farmers, traders and peasants bustled past the food stalls and open shop fronts. More than a few gawked at the royal party as they went by.

  ‘I like to be seen,’ Agang said. ‘I barely leave the citadel as it is. It’s good for people to see their king.’

  ‘I agree, your Majesty,’ said Pieper, the Holdings priest walking to his left.

  Hodang shot him a narrow-eyed frown.

  Agang smiled. The priest had a way of riling up his chief minister, although Agang didn’t mind his company. Despite his avowed mission to convert him to the Holdings faith, the priest was amenable to be around.

  ‘It is wise,’ Pieper went on, ‘for the ordinary folk to see with their own eyes that their monarch cares for them, but I would also advise a certain amount of reticence, lest too much contact diminish the royal aura.’

  ‘For once I concur,’ Hodang said. ‘Kings do not conduct their business in the town market.’

  Agang sighed. ‘Stop nagging.’

  The lead soldiers halted, and Agang looked up. Ahead, on a junction leading to Temple Square, a large building stood, towering over the shops and houses nearby. It still had bars on the windows, despite its change in function.

  ‘The old slave market?’ Pieper said.

  ‘Yes,’ Agang said. ‘I thought I’d see for myself how the freed slaves from your lands are doing. Since the proclamation that all Holdings captives are to be brought here, hundreds have passed through these gates. You yourself have told me of the condition of some.’

  Pieper grimaced.

  ‘I forewarned the administrators that we were coming, your Majesty,’ Hodang said.

  ‘Thank you,’ Agang said. ‘Shall we?’

  A soldier opened the front door and Agang walked into the hall, flanked by Hodang, Pieper, servants and more soldiers. On the left were desks, where Holdings clerks sat, taking the details of lines of emancipated slaves. On the right, Sanang slave-owners stood gathered in groups, haggling with officials over the price of their property, who remained huddled in chains by the wall.

  Hedgewitches went from slave to slave, healing the worst afflicted. Most were in poor shape, emaciated or carrying wounds. All had a beaten look in their eyes, and these were the survivors, taken from the great victories Agang had won over the Holdings at the River Twinth over two years before, close to the very place he was standing. Who knew how many had died since that day?

  A group of officials approached.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ they said, bowing.

  ‘You honour us with your visit,’ said one.

  Agang nodded .

  Several of the slave-owners saw him, and began staring in his direction.

  ‘Should we speak to them, your Majesty?’ Hodang said.

  ‘All right,’ Agang said, and they walked over to the slave-owners, who gathered round, kept back a little by the presence of several burly warriors in black.

  ‘These men, your Majesty,’ said one of the officials, ‘are here to fulfil their duty under the law, to release all of their Holdings slaves.’

  ‘As long as we’re well paid for it!’ yelled one of the owners.

  ‘I don’t like it,’ cried another. ‘I don’t see why we’re getting forced to give up our slaves. I’d rather have them than the money.’

  There was a chorus of agreement.

  ‘The Holdings are our friends and allies,’ Hodang said, his voice ringing out. ‘We cannot keep our friends as slaves.’

  ‘We heard that you want to free all the slaves,’ an owner said, ‘not just the Holdings ones.’

  ‘In time,’ Agang said, gaining a look from Hodang. ‘All shall be free in our kingdom.’

  ‘There will be a long transitional process,’ Hodang cried over the growing growl of complaint. ‘Everyone will be compensated from the treasury.’

  ‘It’ll never happen,’ shouted one. ‘Every chief would rise up rather than hand over their slaves.’

  ‘Would you?’ Agang cried, his rage boiling. ‘Would you rise up? Or any one of you here? This kingdom will see an end to slavery. I shall make it so. And I will strike down anyone who stands against me.’

  The slave-owners backed away, the black-clad soldiers glowering at them, their hands close to the hilts of their swords, waiting for the merest gesture from their king.

  ‘Come now,’ Hodang said. ‘At present the law speaks only of Holdings slaves, so that is the law we must all obey. Your Majesty, let us leave these gentlemen to their business, I am sure they are eager to carry out their duty.’

  Agang nodded, his temper fading .

  He turned, and the officials led them across the hall, nervous glances shared among them.

  ‘A brave stand, your Majesty,’ Pieper whispered as they walked.

  They halted at the row of desks. The lines of shuffling ex-slaves paused to stare.

  ‘This, your Majesty, is where the emancipated slaves are processed,’ an older official said. ‘Clerks take down all their details, in the hope that their families can be contacted. Once that is done, they are taken upstairs to where they are fed, bathed and given clean clothes.’

  ‘And where do they stay?’ Agang said.

  ‘They are housed in the old slave quarters at the rear of the building, your Majesty.’

  ‘In the cages?’

  ‘Unfortunately, yes, your Majesty. We’ve had them cleaned up, of course.’

  ‘How many have died?’

  ‘Almost none of those who survive processing have died, your Majesty, though many have expired in this very hall. Sometimes captives are brought in, and the whole batch is in a terrible condition, and we haven’t enough healers to save them all.’

  ‘There are rumours, your Majesty,’ another official said in a low voice, ‘that some owners are deliberately maiming their Holdings slaves, knowing that they will be paid the same amount under the law, so long as they are still alive at the time of trade.’

  ‘Is this true?’ Agang said.

  ‘I couldn’t say for certain, your Majesty,’ the older man said, ‘though some slaves have come in with what look to be fresh injuries.’

  Agang glanced up at the lines of freed slaves, many of whom had been beaten.

  ‘Why are almost all of them men?’ Pieper asked. ‘Didn’t you capture an equal number of female soldiers?’

  Agang frowned, saying nothing.

  ‘It appears most did not survive,’ the official said, keeping his gaze down .

  There was silence among the men stood present.

  After a moment, the older official gestured. ‘Your Majesty, do you wish to visit the old slave quarters?’

  ‘Thank you, but no,’ Agang said. ‘We’ve seen enough.’

  ‘Your Majesty,’ the officials bowed.

  The royal party turned for the doors, and were soon back out onto the street.

  ‘Don’t say anything, Hodang,’ Agang said.

  His chief minister nodded, the faintest of smiles on his lips.

  ‘Your principles on ending slavery are to be applauded, your Majesty,’ Pieper said, as they walked along the street, soldiers fanned out around them. ‘The plight of those poor souls troubles my heart deeply. Is there any way we could speed up their transfer home?’

  ‘We’re going as fast as we can,’ Hodang said. ‘We’ve already sent five hundred of your people back, and convoys are leaving every half-third. And may I remind you of the utterly exorbitant drain on the treasury this whole operation is costing the kingdom?’

  Pieper shrugged. ‘The gold you stole in Rahain is paying for your earlier transgressions.
There’s a certain poetry to that.’

  ‘And it’s making a lot of people who dislike us very rich,’ Hodang muttered.

  Behind them there was a clamour of noise and Agang turned back to look down the road towards Temple Square. A small group of Holdings missionaries, each dressed in long black robes, were haranguing the crowd of Sanang walking past. Several had stopped to watch, separated from the preachers by a line of soldiers. A few were shouting back, while others laughed.

  ‘You have to admire their persistence,’ Hodang smirked. ‘Two thirds they’ve been here, and how many converts?’

  ‘Um, three at the last count, I think,’ Pieper smiled back.

  ‘You should tell them to give up before one gets hurt.’

  ‘They wouldn’t listen to me,’ Pieper said. ‘They’re members of the One True Path, a rather zealous sect within the church. To them, I’m just a boring old fart sent out by the church establishment, while they’re the daring pioneers, bringing the faith to the wild forests of Sanang.’

  ‘Are you not the Lord Vicar’s representative?’ Agang said.

  ‘Indeed, your Majesty,’ he said. ‘However I am but one man, while there are thirty brothers and sisters of the Path living in their mission on Temple Square. They wouldn’t worry too much about anything I had to say to them.’

  ‘Do any of these Path fanatics have the same mage powers as you?’ Hodang asked the priest.

  Pieper shook his head. ‘Not in the slightest,’ he said. ‘They’re all deacons. I am the only one here with the full range of vision powers, excepting a few in the Imperial Legate’s guard, who possess battle-vision. I’m the only one who can communicate with the priest stationed at the old frontier wall, and so receive and pass messages to the capital.’

  ‘So the Emperor can check up on us?’ Agang smiled.

  ‘I do have a bit of news from home,’ Pieper said, his eyes lighting up. ‘About someone I have just remembered you know. Daphne Holdfast.’

  ‘Ha!’ Agang laughed. ‘Daphne. How is she? What’s the news?’

  ‘She’s fled,’ Pieper said. ‘Again. Making it a habit, that girl. The church had plans to question her, and she took off with her baby.’