Needs of the Empire

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘Can you fix him?’

  Kalayne shook his head. ‘Nothing left to fix. They’ve scoured him clean.’

  Shella cried out, great sobs wracking her. She collapsed by the side of the bed, shuddering, her arms clutching Jayki’s motionless body. She felt a small hand on her shoulder.

  ‘He’ll never wake up,’ Kalayne went on. ‘He might as well be dead. ’

  ‘Shut up,’ yelled Benel, ‘that’s her friend lying there. Show some kindness, you miserable bastard.’

  Shella looked up, her eyes red.

  ‘You must be careful,’ Kalayne said. ‘We have to assume that the church is now in possession of every memory that was in Jayki’s head, every conversation he ever had with you, and all that he has seen.’

  ‘Careful be fucked,’ Shella said. ‘I’ll kill the bastard who did this.’

  Chapter 26

  Dawn Rising

  R ahain Capital, Rahain Republic – 17 th Day, First Third Winter 506

  With practised ease, Daphne bent her vision over the mountains to Slateford. She reached the town as dawn was brightening the valley, and followed the river until she saw the mansion. She entered through the bedroom window.

  Killop was getting dressed by the bed, and she hesitated for a moment, watching him.

  Morning, Killop, she said, going into his mind.

  He smiled as she created an apparition of her form before his eyes.

  ‘Good morning.’

  ‘Kara-bear up already?’

  ‘Aye,’ he nodded. ‘I’ll go get her.’

  ‘In a minute,’ she said. ‘How are things?’

  ‘The truce with the Old Free is still holding,’ he said, sitting on the bed. ‘Took Dean up to the quarry yesterday for fire practice. He’s coming along. How are you? Any change?’

  She shook her head.

  He frowned.

  ‘Something’s going to happen soon,’ she said. ‘Something’s building up. Hundreds more New Free have been out on the streets protesting. The caverns are packed with soldiers, but they’d be out-numbered ten to one if all the ex-slaves came out. It’ll only take one spark.’

  ‘I miss you.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said. ‘At least we can talk now.’

  He gazed up at her. ‘I can’t wait to do more than just talk.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ she said. ‘Tell me what you’d like to do.’

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘first I’d…’

  The door opened and Karalyn ran in, wearing a bib covered in cornmeal.

  ‘Mama!’ she cried.

  The apparition of Daphne knelt. ‘Hiya, Kara-bear.’

  Bridget came in. She glanced at Killop and Karalyn, her eyes narrowing.

  ‘Would I be right in saying that you’re talking to Daphne?’

  ‘Aye,’ Killop said.

  Bridget waved into empty space. ‘Hi Daphne. This kind of freaks me out, so I’ll leave you all to it.’

  She left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  ‘It would be great,’ Killop said, ‘if you could make Bridget see you as well.’

  ‘I’d have to be inside her head to make her see me, just like I’m in yours.’

  ‘But Karalyn can see you.’

  Daphne shrugged. ‘I don’t know how she does it. Maybe she’s so connected to you, she sees what you see.’

  ‘Not all the time, I hope.’

  Daphne heard a noise.

  ‘Someone’s coming,’ she said. ‘I’ll come by tomorrow. Bye Killop, bye Kara-bear, love you both.’

  She snapped her vision back to her body and opened her eyes.

  The streetlights in the cavern had been turned up for morning, one of the few public amenities that still worked in the centre of the capital. Her head ached, and she felt sick, but the long hours of practice had toughened her. She gazed down the tiled slope of the roof. The hatch was open, and a man was crawling up. He was making for the sheltered platform at the apex, where Daphne liked to sit to perform her range-visions to Slateford.

  ‘I’d thought I’d find you up here,’ Joley said, climbing onto the platform and crouching next to her. He looked out over the cavern, his gaze lingering on the huge bulk of the Senate complex in the distance.

  ‘Nice view,’ he said. ‘I might have to come up here more often.’

  He opened a pack of cigarettes and passed her one.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Nothing, just came for a chat.’

  She frowned.

  ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Were you using your powers? Did I interrupt?’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘Do you want me to leave?’

  ‘No, you’re here now.’

  They sat in awkward silence for a moment.

  ‘Joley,’ she said, ‘why are you really up here?’

  The embassy secretary sighed. ‘Occasionally, I feel the need to remove myself from the company of Father Ghorley, in case I say or do something I might later regret.’

  ‘Are you wishing you’d retired when the others did?’

  ‘I’d be going mad, sitting on the old estate with nothing to do. I’m too old to learn a new trade; this is all I’ve known. But I’m used to how it was under the queen, before all this empire nonsense took hold, and before the creator-faith became something I had to pretend to take seriously.’

  ‘The empire’s not going to last,’ she said. ‘They’ve as good as lost Sanang, and Rakana only obeys because they have to. Things might go back to how they were before.’

  He snorted. ‘You don’t actually believe that, do you?’

  ‘I’d like to think there’s something worth fighting for,’ she said. ‘To be honest though, I’d rather go home.’

  ‘You mean Slateford? ’

  ‘Where else?’

  He shook his head at her. ‘Slateford’s finished, no matter which side, Old Free or New, wins this war. If the Old Free keep control of the government, they’ll never let a colony of Kellach survive just eighty miles from the capital, and if the New Free rise up and take over, they’ll demand that Slateford convert to the creator-faith, or leave. Or die, depending on how fanatical they’re feeling.’

  ‘Not if we can get Laodoc back into power.’

  He laughed. ‘Have you not been listening to Ghorley? There’s no way the church will allow Laodoc back in charge if the Old Free are overthrown. Direct rule, that’s what they’re intending, with Father Ghorley as imperial governor. The church will run Rahain, and unless Killop and his people convert, they’ll be driven out.’

  Daphne stubbed out her cigarette and Joley offered her another one.

  ‘I hate both sides in this stupid war,’ she said. ‘Honestly, Joley, why do we bother?’

  ‘I swore an oath,’ he said. ‘You, on the other hand…’

  He paused, as the low roar of a crowd began to reach them. Daphne turned to look over the edge of the platform, and down into the streets below. Since the coup, every road leading to the mission had been blocked with barricades guarded by Old Free army units. Each day at dawn, growing crowds of New Free gathered along the major roads, getting closer to the barricades as their boldness increased. On the first morning, a few dozen protesters had marched towards a barricade praying, singing and chanting. The soldiers had shot them down with crossbows bolts when they had strayed too close.

  The next day, hundreds of ex-slaves had turned out, staying out of bow-range, but chanting and holding up pictures of those slain the previous day, the martyrs of the New Free. Each following day, the numbers of ex-slaves had increased, and more soldiers had been drafted in to seal off the Church Mission.

  Joley nudged her with his elbow.

  ‘Look,’ he said. ‘That’s new. ’

  Daphne squinted at the approaching crowds in the distance. She took a stick of keenweed from her pocket and lit it.

  Joley raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Don’t you start,’ she said.

  She took a draw and pulled
on her battle-vision, her enhanced senses focussed on the streets below. There were three roads leading off from that side of the mansion, each with a barricade. She saw the backs of the Old Free soldiers, crouching with their crossbows and swords behind lines of overturned carts. A hundred yards ahead of each barricade were the usual crowds, singing and chanting.

  Daphne frowned. The front rows of protesters were holding up a wall of shields, made from tables, doors, and nailed-together floorboards. Behind, she saw the glint of weapons.

  She glanced at Joley.

  ‘This could get interesting,’ he said.

  A whistle sounded as the soldiers realised the protesters were armed. Reinforcements arrived at the rear of the barricades, and began loading their crossbows.

  The protesters on the largest of the three streets cried out in a united roar of defiance, and charged the barricade. Hearing the noise, the crowds started closing in from all directions, a surging river of Rahain. Only the first few rows were armed, Daphne noticed. Other than a handful of swords, the rest held axes, knives or hammers.

  ‘Are you not going downstairs to inform Ghorley?’ she asked.

  Joley shrugged, his attention fixed on the streets below. ‘I’m sure he already knows. He probably organised it.’

  They watched as the crowds neared the barricades. As soon as they were within crossbow range the shooting began. Many bolts struck the makeshift wooden shields of the New Free protesters, but several made their way through the gaps, hitting flesh. People in the crowds were struck, collapsed, then disappeared under the surge.

  The soldiers on the central barricade began aiming their crossbows at an angle, their bolts flying over the front line of shields to pepper the charging masses, and dozens began to fall. Screams mixed with the guttural roar of the crowds as, yard by yard, they closed on the barricades. On the right-hand street, the charge began to falter as repeated waves of bolts ripped through the press of ex-slaves. Many began fleeing down a side-street, but bunched together at the entrance they formed a target that the Old Free soldiers couldn’t miss.

  ‘It’s a massacre,’ said Joley, transfixed.

  On the central street, the charge had slowed, and the lead protesters were huddling behind their battered shields, twenty yards from the barricade.

  Daphne spun round on the roof platform to see what was happening on the other side of the mansion.

  ‘The Old Free are holding them,’ she cried to Joley. ‘They’re slaughtering them.’

  ‘Wait,’ Joley said. ‘Over here, look.’

  Daphne turned back, her eyes following where Joley was pointing.

  On the left-hand street, the protesters were within a few yards of the barricade. Piles of dead lay carpeting the road, but the press of people surging towards the line of over-turned carts was unstoppable. Daphne saw some of the ex-slaves in the front lines shot through with crossbow bolts, yet the pressure and mass from behind were keeping them upright. Within seconds the crowd reached the barricade, and swarmed over it without a pause. The soldiers guarding broke and ran, but many were caught by the oncoming mob and were thrown down and trodden into the ground.

  The crowd spilled down the street towards the mission, roaring in triumph. At the other barricades, the soldiers began turning, realising their line had been broken.

  ‘They’re finished,’ Joley said. ‘The mob will tear them to pieces. ‘There are six companies of Old Free down there. Eight hundred soldiers against what, ten thousand ex-slaves?’

  Daphne said nothing. She watched as the Old Free soldiers began running, and more barricades succumbed to the protesters. Groups of soldiers formed themselves into tight squares, loosing bolts into the advancing mob, but no matter how many they hit, more protesters took their places and one by one the Old Free were hunted down and slaughtered. Some soldiers tried to scale the walls of the Church Mission, or pleaded for mercy with the Holdings troopers at the gates, but they were pulled back into the crowd and consumed.

  The masses swarmed in triumph round the walls of the Church Mission, holding aloft the mangled and broken bodies of the slain Old Free soldiers. The roar of chanting filled the streets, echoing off the cavern walls and ceiling.

  Daphne’s ears picked up the faint noise of trumpets. She nudged Joley, and pointed down the main boulevard leading to the vast Senate complex at the other end of the cavern.

  ‘What is it?’ he said.

  ‘Douanna’s preparing her response,’ she said. ‘The Old Free army’s gathering.’

  Joley frowned. ‘I should probably tell Ghorley.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  They edged their way down the roof, the air humming with the roar of the crowd below, and entered the building through the hatch. Daphne closed it, dimming the noise, and they headed down the narrow staircase. The upper floor of the mission was deserted, and they carried on to the middle level, where Ghorley had his reception chambers.

  The corridor by the stairs was packed with mission staff, many in the black robes of the One True Path. Wherever there was a window, people crammed round to stare out at the streets below. Daphne saw a deacon wave down to the masses, a grin on his face.

  Guards were protecting the entrance to Ghorley’s rooms, but they moved aside to allow Joley and Daphne to pass.

  ‘Ahh,’ said Ghorley. ‘There you are. I was beginning to wonder if you’d run off together.’

  Daphne glanced up at him. He was standing on a stool, his arms out-stretched as a pair of servants dressed him in his most ornate priestly robes.

  ‘Come to watch me address the crowds?’ he said .

  ‘Daphne saw something that you might interest you, your Grace,’ Joley said.

  ‘Ohh?’ the priest said. ‘Would that be the approach of the Old Free army, by any chance?’

  Daphne nodded.

  ‘Well it was nice of you to come and tell me,’ he said, ‘but you have only confirmed what I expected of Douanna. She cannot very well do nothing when faced with such a public setback. The Church Mission might be worthless strategically, but its symbolic value to those of the true faith should not be underestimated. She will need to fight to get it back, or lose all authority in the city.’

  ‘You planned all this,’ Daphne said.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘But the imperial army is only a couple of days away,’ she said. ‘Why didn’t you wait for them to arrive? It might have saved hundreds from dying out in the streets just now.’

  He smirked.

  The servants finished arranging his last outer robe, and stood back, bowing. He stepped down from the stool.

  ‘You don’t trust the army,’ she said. ‘You want to take control of the city before they get here.’

  Ghorley looked back at her.

  ‘The army swore its oath to Laodoc,’ he said, ‘but fear not, for I have found a grand purpose for the brave army of the old chancellor.’

  He walked to the double bay doors, which led out onto a balcony overlooking the wide front of the Church Mission, where crowds had gathered in thick numbers. He stepped out, his arms raised, to tumultuous cheering and applause.

  Daphne and Joley, and several others on Ghorley’s staff gathered round the entrance to the balcony, and the priest began.

  ‘Free citizens of Rahain,’ he cried out, as they quietened, ‘beloved in the one faith and united by belief across this glorious empire, here, this morning, you have struck the first blow to regain the freedom that the Creator gave to you. You have battled those who oppressed you, here in these streets outside this mission. You spilled your blood to reach us, to reach your brothers and sisters in faith. I praise you for your courage, and thank you for delivering us from the hands of the evil ones, the old oppressors, the unbelievers. Praise be to the Creator!’

  The crowd cheered and Ghorley gazed down on them like a proud father.

  ‘Rahain is destined to be united in one faith,’ he went on, ‘as is the whole empire, but we in Rahain have led the way. On
e day we will bring the light and truth of the Creator to every soul in this world, but the spark you have lit today is fragile yet. Even now, the machinations of the old oppressors are working to rob you of this triumph.’

  He pointed towards the Senate, his arm out like a rod.

  ‘There!’ he called out. ‘In there lies the nest of evil, the snakes forever denying you your freedom and dignity. Let today be an end to it! Pick up the weapons of the soldiers here, and take up your shields for the time has come.’ He gazed upwards, clenching his fists as the crowd swayed and roared.

  ‘Destroy them!’ he cried. ‘Burn the Senate to the ground! Kill them all! Grind the Old Free into the dirt beneath your heels so that they may never rise again.’

  The crowds screamed in a boiling frenzy, surging towards the main boulevard that led to the Senate. Within minutes, thousands were on their way, and the blood-stained streets surrounding the Church Mission quietened, leaving several hundred wounded, and a few others standing guard amid the piles of dead.

  Ghorley came back into the reception chamber, a smile on his face.

  A couple of his staff applauded. Daphne glanced at Joley, but the long-serving secretary’s face was expressionless.

  ‘Thank you, thank you,’ Ghorley beamed. ‘Now, we have much to do…’

  ‘Am I the only sane one here?’ Daphne said.

  The room turned to look at her.

  ‘Did you just advocate mass murder?’ she went on .

  ‘I merely encouraged the freed slaves to fight for their liberty,’ the priest said.

  ‘So burning the Senate is liberty?’

  ‘It is a symbol of the forces that have oppressed the masses of Rahain for thousands of years.’

  ‘And who will rule if they are successful?’

  ‘The empire will appoint appropriate leadership to guide the nation through its current difficulties, my dear Miss Holdfast,’ Ghorley said. ‘This might be a suitable time to remind you of the promise you made to stay out of politics and the affairs of the church.’

  The atmosphere in the room grew cold. Many of the mission staff, especially those in black robes, were staring at Daphne with naked hostility. Even Joley looked uncomfortable.