Needs of the Empire

by Christopher Mitchell

  Hodang nodded. ‘I’ll see to it at once, your Majesty.’

  Agang frowned, and stepped back onto the podium to watch the rest of the executions.

  It was past midnight when Agang went up to his chambers in the Great Hall, tired and reeking of smoke. As he entered his private sitting room, he noticed someone lying stretched out along a comfortable couch.

  ‘You?’ Agang snorted, glancing at the empty bottles and full astray on the side table.

  Chane groaned, and opened her eyes.

  ‘Here to apologise?’ he said, throwing his overcoat over the back of a chair.

  She sat up, and reached for a drink.

  ‘You missed the executions,’ he said.

  Chane said nothing, sipping from her cup.

  ‘I assume you’ve heard about the return of the Sixth Regiment?’ he went on. ‘Or, what’s left of it. ’

  She nodded, her eyes red and unfocussed.

  ‘Have no fear,’ he said. ‘We shall prevail. Broadwater will not fall to the firewitch. I have faith in the War God. Why would he have helped me before, if I was destined to be overthrown in a rebellion?’

  Chane started shaking, a snuffling noise coming from her. At first he thought she was weeping, but he realised it was laughter he was hearing.

  ‘You still haven’t worked it out, have you?’ Chane said, her words slurred and full of spite.

  He sat.

  ‘Worked what out?’

  ‘Back in the Holdings,’ she said, ‘I’d heard tales of what vision mages could do, never really believed it to be honest. Thought it was a load of bullshit.’

  Agang glared at the woman, impatient, but waited for her to continue.

  ‘But now,’ she said, ‘I see that freak Pieper, and what he can do. And you see it too.’

  She laughed again.

  ‘Get to the fucking point,’ Agang growled.

  ‘Isn’t it obvious, you idiot?’ she said, a drunken grin across her lips. ‘They can put thoughts into people’s heads, make them hear voices and stuff.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘There is no fucking war god, you fool,’ she said. ‘The Holdings have been playing you.’

  ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘Let me get this straight,’ she smirked. ‘Your army is besieging their capital, and you hear a voice in your head telling you to make friends with the Holdings, and so instead of destroying them, you help them destroy the Rahain.’

  Agang’s mouth went dry. He gripped the sides of the chair, and he could feel a hammering behind his temples.

  ‘And that time before,’ Chane went on, ‘when you attacked Daphne’s fort, that must have been them too. I remember Daphne saying that at the time, but I paid her no attention.’ She shook her head. ‘Bitch was right all along.’

  ‘Get out,’ Agang sneered, his teeth bare. ‘Now, before I kill you.’

  ‘Fuck you,’ she said, standing. ‘There’s a convoy heading back to the Plateau tomorrow, and I’ll be on it.’

  He stared at her, the urge to leap up and strike her almost impossible to restrain. He wanted to hurt her, but was frozen to the seat.

  She walked to the door.

  ‘I used to think you were going to change everything,’ she said. ‘Thought you were different. But you’re just another arsehole.’

  She opened the door and left, slamming it behind her.

  Agang jumped up and punched the wall of the room, breaking his knuckles on the solid oak beams. He held his fist, grimacing and falling to his knees, his face screwed up tight.

  He didn’t want to believe it. Couldn’t believe it.

  ‘War God,’ he whispered. ‘I know she’s wrong. I believe.’

  He bowed his head, weeping.

  ‘Save me.’

  Chapter 12

  Dreams of Karalyn

  S lateford, Rahain Republic – 21 st Day, First Third Autumn 506

  ‘I’m doing it, wee brother,’ Keira said, ‘whether you help me or not.’

  Killop furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what would happen if ma and da caught them.

  Keira shook her head. ‘Stop worrying. You’re always worrying.’

  ‘Cause your plans are always stupid.’

  ‘Come on, it’ll be a laugh.’

  ‘Watching you beat up some lassie? Aye, hilarious.’

  ‘Cow deserves it but,’ Keira said, her face a shade away from violence. ‘Are you taking her side?’

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘but we don’t even know for sure that it was her that did it.’

  ‘Of course it fucking was!’ Keira shrieked. ‘You just see a pretty face, and think she’s all innocent. Well, she won’t be pretty for much longer, not after I’ve finished with her.’

  His sister stormed out of his small bedroom, leaving the door swinging on its hinges. Killop gazed at the empty space where she had been, and swore to himself .

  Why did he always have to clean up her mess? She couldn’t control her fists, or her tongue, and half the village thought she was mental.

  Keira’s pet cat jumped up onto the bed beside him, purring and butting his head up against his leg. Killop rubbed him behind his ears, and the cat put a paw onto his lap.

  ‘Not now,’ he said, brushing the cat aside.

  ‘Where’s yer sister going with a face like that?’ his father said, standing in the doorway.

  Killop shrugged.

  ‘Better go after her son.’

  ‘Why do I always have to keep her out of trouble? It’s not fair.’

  ‘She listens to you, son,’ his father said. ‘You’re the sensible one.’

  Killop glowered.

  ‘One day,’ he said, ‘I won’t be there to stop her.’

  His father chuckled. ‘When that happens, the world had better watch out.’

  Killop stood and everything went black. The ground fell from under his feet, and he floated in darkness, silence surrounding him.

  He panicked for a second, then realised he was dreaming.

  He sensed a great presence, and a powerful wave of emotion struck him, and he spasmed as the surge went through his body. He began to panic again, his heart pounding, as the presence seemed to peel open his mind. Memories and feelings flooded him as if his head was being held under water, and he lost the sense of where he was, and who he was. He screamed in agony.

  In an instant it stopped, and he found himself lying in his own bed, a dim light flickering on his table.

  I’m sorry about that, Killop.

  He sat up, shivering and sweating.

  ‘What?’

  It’s me, Daphne, the voice said. I’m in your head.

  ‘Was that you? I thought I was going mad.’

  No. It was our daughter .

  He reached out for a cup of ale and took a drink. It was stale, but helped soothe the dryness of his mouth. His shivering subsided.

  I was reaching out to Slateford, Daphne went on. Karalyn must have sensed what I was doing, and followed me. She didn’t mean any harm.

  ‘She has powers?’ he said. ‘But she’s a baby, I don’t understand.’

  I’ll explain everything when I get to Slateford. I’ll also be able to place protections in your mind, to stop her from doing it again.

  He lay back down, sweat drenching his covers.

  Damn, she said. I didn’t want our first conversation to be like this.

  ‘It’s good to hear your voice,’ he said, smiling despite the pounding in his head. ‘Are you close?’

  We’re riding through the night, she said. We should be at Slateford by tomorrow evening.

  ‘You can ride a horse and use your vision at the same time?’

  No, she laughed. We’re in a wagon. I’m resting in the back while Bedig drives.

  ‘That big handsome Brig man I’m not supposed to be jealous about?’ Killop said. ‘That Bedig?’

  He felt Daphne hesitate for a moment.

  ‘I’m joking.’

  Are you?

  ‘I’m
jealous that someone else got to spend so much time with you, and got to hold Karalyn when she was a tiny baby.’

  We’ll be together soon, she said. And when you meet Bedig, you’ll see there’s nothing to be jealous about. He’s been a great friend, but he’s not the father of our daughter, nor the man I want to be with.

  He felt her move within his mind.

  I need to be going, she said. Karalyn is still upset that I pulled her out of your head. She’s curious about you.

  He smiled. ‘Tomorrow evening, then.’

  And I wanted it to be a surprise, she said. See you tomorrow, Killop.

  Daphne vanished from his mind, leaving a headache in her place.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his body exhausted but his mind dizzy and awake. He remembered how it had felt when Karalyn was in his head, and his thoughts felt raw and flayed.

  His daughter had done that? He was unsure if he should be fearful or proud.

  He stood, and pulled off his damp tunic. The shutters of his room were closed, and the night outside was pitch dark. He dressed in the light of the dim lamp, then picked it up and opened his door, which led to a suite of rooms on the upper floor of the mansion that he shared with the mages, and Bridget when she wasn’t staying in town.

  He walked into their communal room, and placed the lamp on a table. There was a flagon sitting, with a towel covering the open top, and he picked it up and poured himself a fresh, cold ale. He caught the scent of an extinguished candle, and turned.

  In the dim shadows he saw Lilyann sitting on a chair with a book on her lap, a candle smoking next to her.

  ‘What are you doing up?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Reading?’

  She shrugged.

  ‘Do you want a drink?’

  ‘It’s the middle of the night, Chief.’

  ‘Aye, but I can’t sleep, and it looks like you can’t either.’

  ‘Alright then. An ale.’

  He poured one for her and took the two mugs and the lamp over to the low table where Lilyann was sitting.

  He handed her one of the ales.

  ‘What’s the book?’

  ‘You wouldn’t approve.’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that.’ He put his hand out.

  She passed him the book. He scanned the front cover.

  Principles of Creator Theology

  He resisted the immediate impulse to throw the book to the far corner of the room, and kept his face steady.

  ‘Interesting? ’

  She eyed him from under heavy lids. ‘It’s all right.’

  He flicked the pages open and read a short section.

  ‘There’s a lot of difficult Rahain words in here,’ he said. ‘I’m impressed you can read it.’

  Lilyann said nothing.

  ‘Where did you get it?’

  ‘I asked someone to go into town and see if an alliance soldier would lend me a copy.’

  He smiled. ‘Dyam?’

  ‘I’m not saying who.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ He passed the book back to her.

  ‘You’re not going to confiscate it then?’

  He shook his head. ‘Would that stop you getting another copy?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then it would be pointless. I don’t blame you for being curious. Has Dean read it?’

  She shrugged. ‘He’s not interested. Prefers to read his stupid books about warriors and monsters. You know, kid’s stuff. He might as well be reading Toam and Tyella books.’

  ‘I remember them,’ Killop said. ‘See Toam run. Tyella is playing with the ball. Took me ages to get past all that.’

  Lilyann laughed.

  Killop took a drink of ale.

  ‘You may as well be the first to hear,’ he said. ‘Daphne will be arriving tomorrow with Karalyn.’

  ‘Is that why you’re up?’ she said. ‘I didn’t hear a messenger.’

  Killop tapped the side of his head with a finger. ‘She talked to me in here.’

  ‘That night Deacon Millar was round,’ Lilyann said, ‘he told us about Daphne. I asked him why she was a renegade from the church.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘He wouldn’t tell me.’

  ‘And what do you conclude from that?’

  ‘That it must be really bad. ’

  ‘That wasn’t the conclusion I was coming to.’

  ‘Well, what do you think she’s done?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, ‘but if I had to guess, the church asked her to work for them, and she said no. She’s a powerful mage, and the church don’t like that she’s not under their control.’

  Lilyann looked dubious.

  ‘But the Creator himself spoke to her,’ she said. ‘How could she turn her back on him after that?’

  Killop said nothing.

  ‘You don’t believe it, do you Chief?’ she said. ‘You think Daphne’s lying.’

  ‘I haven’t heard Daphne claim it’s true,’ he said. ‘We’ve only the word of Millar that it happened, and you’ll have to forgive my scepticism about anything he says.’

  ‘This book,’ she said, holding up the volume, ‘contains many examples of when the Creator spoke to the prophets of the Holdings, some going back hundreds of years. Every time, what he said turned out to be true.’

  ‘And how do you know the book isn’t full of lies?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Are you going to ask Daphne about the Creator?’ she said. ‘If you don’t, I will. I want to hear what she has to say about it.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll come up, but it’s not the first thing on my list.’

  ‘The Creator of the universe spoke to your girlfriend, the mother of your daughter, and you don’t care? Are you not even a wee bit curious to find out what he said to her? See if she holds the meaning of life?’

  Killop shifted in his seat.

  Lilyann chuckled.

  ‘What colour are her eyes?’ she asked.

  ‘Green.’

  ‘All right, so you do know something about her. Where’s she going to stay?’

  ‘Wherever she wants.’

  ‘Are you going to marry her? ’

  ‘None of your business.’

  ‘Of course it’s my business,’ she snapped. ‘We all live up here like some weird family, with you as da, Bridget as the crazy auntie, Liam as grumpy old granddad, and Dean as the moody wee brother. Now you’re about to add a new woman into our lives, and a baby?’

  ‘You all need to back off when they get here,’ Killop said. ‘Daphne and I have a lot of catching up to do.’

  ‘Eurgh,’ Lilyann cried. ‘If that means what I think it does.’

  A door opened.

  ‘Who the fuck’s making all that noise?’ Bridget said as she staggered out, wrapped in a night robe.

  ‘Hello, auntie,’ Lilyann said, laughing.

  Bridget gave her a look.

  ‘I got a message from Daphne,’ Killop said. ‘She and Karalyn will be here tomorrow evening.’

  Bridget’s face lit up. ‘Really?’

  ‘Aye,’ said Killop. ‘She sent me a vision.’

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ Bridget said, and disappeared back into her room. She emerged soon after, with a bottle in her hands.

  ‘Some of Brodie’s latest try at gin,’ she said.

  ‘Any good?’ Killop asked.

  ‘We’re about to find out.’

  Bridget came over and sat down next to them.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘Daphne sent you a message in the middle of the fucking night?’

  ‘I wondered about that myself,’ Lilyann said. ‘Does she not go to sleep at the same time as everyone else?’

  Bridget poured out the gin.

  ‘Just a wee measure for you,’ she said to Lilyann.

  They took a moment to sip from their mugs.

  ‘Fuck me,’ said Bridget. ‘This could strip Lilyann’s make-up off.’

&nbs
p; ‘Cheeky cow,’ the mage cried.

  ‘That one-legged old bastard’s not got it quite right,’ the Brig woman went on, ‘but it’ll do the job. ’

  ‘Anyway,’ Lilyann said, ‘we were talking about Daphne’s night-time activities.’

  Killop hesitated, unsure whether to speak about his daughter’s role in what had happened.

  ‘Can I have another gin, please?’ Lilyann said, holding up her empty mug.

  ‘You can have an ale,’ Bridget said. ‘Rest of the gin’s for us grown ups.’

  Lilyann tutted, then got up and went to the table.

  ‘It’s a wee bit complicated,’ Killop said to Bridget, but the Brig woman was too busy pouring more gin to notice.

  ‘Right,’ she said, setting out the refilled mugs. ‘Let’s hear it.’

  ‘I was sleeping,’ he said. ‘Dreaming about Keira as it happens, about something that happened when we were young, when I woke up, and Daphne was in my head.’

  Lilyann made a face as she sat down with her ale.

  ‘They’re on the road,’ he went on, ‘and Daphne was scouting out with her powers. I don’t think she meant to wake me.’

  ‘So she’s spying on you?’ Lilyann said. ‘At night?’

  ‘Does seem a bit weird,’ Bridget said.

  ‘I wonder what she thought she was going to see,’ Lilyann said. She shivered. ‘She might be looking at us now. Watching us.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ Killop said.

  ‘Can you be sure she’s not?’ Lilyann said.

  ‘She’s not,’ he said. ‘Listen, if you had the same powers as her, and were travelling to a place you’d never been before, where you were going to live and see the father of your child, wouldn’t you be tempted to take a quick look?’

  ‘Fair point,’ Bridget said, ‘if you put it like that.’

  ‘Still gives me the creeps, but,’ Lilyann said.

  ‘Pyre’s bawsack,’ a voice said as another door opened.

  ‘It’s grumpy granddad,’ Lilyann cried, her ale mug empty again.

  ‘You lot having a fucking party?’ Liam said.

  ‘Come and have a drink,’ Bridget said. ‘We’re celebrating. ’

  ‘Aye?’ he said, remaining in his doorway. ‘What?’

  ‘Daphne’s arriving tomorrow,’ Bridget said.

  ‘Oh aye?’ Liam said, wandering over. He noticed the gin on the table, and sat.

  ‘So,’ he said, as Bridget poured him a drink, ‘she’s on her way?’