The crowd stayed motionless.
Bridget folded her arms. ‘If you don’t, you’re not getting through. ’
One by one the peasants began to edge backwards, until there was a yard clear between them and the line of Kellach militia.
‘More,’ Bridget cried.
The crowd obeyed.
‘Good,’ Bridget said. She glanced at Killop. ‘We ready?’
He nodded.
She looked over the crowd. ‘Right. The first will be from here.’ She pointed ahead. ‘The front ten rows from here. Step forwards.’
The Kellach lines parted, leaving a gap ten yards wide, and the chosen peasants jostled through.
‘Enough,’ Bridget cried, after the first batch of peasants had passed. The militia re-formed, pushing the crowd back.
‘Move back!’ Bridget yelled. ‘I don’t care if we’re here all day, you’ll do what you’re fucking told.’
The crowd swayed and roiled, and crept back a few yards.
Killop watched as the first batch of peasants ran down the road towards the bridge, militia posted along the route.
‘Kalden,’ he said, ‘get your officers to take over from Bridget.’
He nodded and turned away.
‘She’s good,’ Daphne said, as Bridget clambered down from the cart.
Killop nodded, still rankling from the previous evening’s argument.
She grinned at him as she approached.
‘Nice job,’ Daphne said.
‘Cheers,’ Bridget replied.
‘Come on,’ Killop said. ‘Let’s go to the bridge. I want to make sure everything’s fine.’
Daphne glanced at Bridget as they walked towards the road. ‘Is he in a bad mood with you?’
‘We had a disagreement last night.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Killop said.
‘Will you tell me later?’ Daphne said.
‘Aye. Just let me focus on getting a thousand peasants across our land without any bloodshed.’
Killop walked on, the two women silent beside him .
They reached the northern bridge. It was on the edge of town, and was the smallest of its three river crossings. A few farmhouses were the closest buildings, while the paved streets of the town began fifty yards to the south. Killop saw that the word had spread. Folk were assembling, having dusted off their old swords. The roads leading into town were each blocked, thick with armed Kellach.
The first batch of peasants had crossed when they reached the bridge. The militia saluted and they stopped. Daphne lit a cigarette.
‘It was about leaving,’ said Killop, his voice low so the militia couldn’t hear. ‘Leaving Slateford and going back to Kellach Brigdomin.’
‘What?’ Daphne said.
‘That’s what our disagreement was about.’
‘If things don’t get better,’ Bridget said.
Daphne looked at her. ‘Kellach Brigdomin?’
‘Aye, Daphne,’ Bridget said, ‘the arse-end of fucking nowhere. Away from all this… all this.’
She gestured as the next batch of peasants came into view, running down the road from the border post.
‘That’s more than a hundred,’ Bridget said, ‘and less than ten minutes.’ She looked at Killop. ‘Do you want me to take over back there? Kalden’s guys are all right, but I’m not sure they’re up to managing that crowd.’
Killop nodded, and Bridget ran back up the road, passing the band of Rahain as they charged towards the bridge.
The militia readied themselves on the approaches to the crossing, flanking both sides of the road, as the peasants neared. Killop and Daphne watched as they passed, their boots thudding over the wooden planks of the bridge, onwards and along the road to the west, where more militia were positioned, guiding them to the far border.
The sun came out from behind a cloud, and the day brightened.
‘Your plan seems to be working,’ Daphne said.
‘So far.’
‘It’ll take a couple of hours. Shall we get some lunch?’
He smiled, and took her hand .
‘We’ll be in the nearest tavern,’ he said to the officer at the bridge. He and Daphne started to walk for the town. Killop paused, and turned to the officer.
‘Keep me updated every half hour.’
Killop sat back, his hands behind his head, the fire at the end of the tavern warming him. His empty plate was on the table before him, while Daphne sat on the bench to his right, still eating. The officer at the bridge had sent him two runners so far, each saying that the plan was working, and the numbers at the border post were beginning to thin.
Daphne wiped her mouth and sighed, sipping from a cup of wine.
‘We should head back,’ he said.
‘After this,’ she said, holding up her lit cigarette.
‘All right.’
Daphne frowned. ‘Do you think Bridget’s serious about leaving?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘She says that if things don’t get better she might consider it. We just have to make sure things get better.’
Daphne’s face went through several expressions.
‘You don’t think things will get better?’ he said.
‘Maybe eventually,’ she said, ‘once the civil war’s over. But it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better.’
‘You agree with her? You think we should go?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ she said. ‘I don’t give up just because things get bad for a while.’
‘Are you happy here?’
‘I’m happy to be with you and Karalyn. It feels like I’ve been on the move for years. Some stability would be nice for a change.’
The tavern door flew open and a scout ran in.
‘Chief,’ she cried. ‘Kalden and Bridget need you back at the border post.’
‘Why? ’
‘A mob of New Free has arrived,’ the scout said. ‘They’re threatening to attack the peasants.’
Killop and Daphne got to their feet. The scout escorted them as they hurried back to the main road.
‘How many peasants have passed through so far?’ Killop said.
‘About half, Bridget thinks, Chief.’
As they left the town, Killop began to hear shouting. The sun was low in the west, and in the dim light he saw a separate crowd of Rahain gathered at the edge of the forest, about twenty yards from the peasants that still had to pass through Slateford.
‘Chief, over here,’ shouted Bridget.
He went up to the wagon by the border crossing, Daphne by his side. Bridget was perched on the driver’s bench, gazing out over the two groups of Rahain.
‘Do we keep letting them through, Chief?’ she said.
‘Are the New Free armed?’
‘Seen some swords. Only a few, but.’
Kalden approached.
‘Let all the peasants through,’ Killop said, ‘then seal the border.’
‘Aye, Chief.’
Kalden turned, and spoke to his officers.
Bridget jumped down.
‘We should get out of the way,’ she said. ‘There’s going to be a stampede.’
‘Better than a massacre.’
They backed off as the militia prepared to open their lines. Kalden was marshalling them, his officers taking a flank each. He raised his arm, and the ranks of Kellach militia split their lines in two, leaving a large gap in the middle.
The peasants sprinted for the opening, charging through, jostling and pushing. Lines of militia guided them onto the correct path, and Killop held his breath as he watched the mass of peasants squeeze through the gap .
When half were through, the pushing increased, amid scream and cries.
‘What the fuck’s going on?’ muttered Bridget.
‘I’ll take a look,’ Daphne said. ‘Hold my arm.’
Killop put a hand onto her shoulder, and her green eyes glazed over. As he held her, he saw Kalden climb up onto the wagon.
Daphne shook her
head and coughed, and Killop turned back to her.
‘Crossbows,’ she gasped. ‘At least a company.’
Her eyes glanced over at Kalden, who was getting to his feet on the back of the wagon.
‘Get down,’ Killop shouted.
Kalden stood, then fell backwards, bolts slamming into his chest and abdomen. His body dropped into the sea of panicking Rahain, and disappeared. All along the line, peasants were falling, and the shields of the Kellach militia were struck in the hail of crossbows bolts.
Daphne drew her sword.
‘Shieldwall!’ Killop bellowed. ‘Charge!’
He drew his sword, and joined the right flank of Kellach as they bunched their shields into a tight wall. Killop kept his head down as they sprinted, his ears ringing with the guttural roar of the Kellach warriors, while the remaining peasants passed through the gap between the two flanks. Daphne stayed close, her eyes fierce.
Several Kellach were hit in the storm of bolts and though some remained on their feet, others fell to the ground. The lines of New Free began to disintegrate at the Kellach’s approach. Many turned and fled, as the first of the militia got within sword range. The Kellach smashed through the New Free, swinging their long swords and axes, cutting down any within reach. The Rahain scattered into the forest, and the Kellach pushed on after them.
Killop picked up the shield of a fallen Kellach warrior and led the militia through the trees. Daphne fought next to him, carving her way through the fleeing Rahain.
He signalled a halt to the charge, and she glanced up at him, then around at the corpses of the Rahain littering the forest floor amid the patches of red snow.
‘They were slaves a year ago,’ she said.
‘Like we were,’ Killop said as he watched the Kellach re-group, their blades dark.
The militia walked back to the border, where a crowd of Kellach from the town had gathered, their weapons unsheathed. A group had formed around the wagon where Kalden had been killed, his body lain out on its flat carriage-bed. No living Rahain was in sight, though many lay on the cold ground where they had fallen.
Bridget nodded as Killop approached.
‘We got them,’ he said.
Bridget said nothing, her eyes red.
‘They might retaliate,’ Daphne said. ‘The New Free. They might come back.’
He glanced at the forest.
‘We’ll build a timber stockade.’
‘How long is the border?’
‘Eight miles on this side.’
Daphne frowned. ‘That could take a while.’
Killop approached the wagon, his eyes falling on Kalden’s body. He shook his head as he stared at his dead friend. Daphne and Bridget stood to either side.
‘When the New Free return,’ said Bridget, ‘they’ll be bringing a shitload more than they did today. That buys us some time.’
‘There’s an hour of light left,’ Killop said. ‘Get teams sent to the forest with axes. We start now.’
Chapter 29
Graveside
P lateau City, The Plateau – 30 th Day, First Third Winter 506
Shella awoke shivering. She opened her eyes and sat up.
‘Close the fucking window, you imbecile,’ she cried to Benel. ‘I’m freezing.’
The Holdings mage flicked the ash from his weedstick over the ledge and smiled.
‘But you complain about the smoke if I don’t.’
‘Right now my comfort is more important than the smell,’ she said. ‘Close the window, and get your ass over here.’
Benel held the smokestick in his lips and swung the heavy shutters across the window, dimming the light in the room. Shella watched him as he neared, one of her dressing gowns over his narrow shoulders.
‘And take that off. You look like an idiot.’
‘At once, your Highness,’ he said, bowing. He untied the belt and let the dressing gown fall to the floor. He stood before her, naked and smirking.
‘You need some exercise,’ she said. ‘You’re getting flabby.’
His face fell.
He got into bed next to her, but looked away.
‘You were crying in your sleep again. ’
She glared at him.
‘You must have really loved Jayki.’
‘Fuck you,’ she said. ‘Of course I loved him. The shit that boy took because of me...’ Tears came to her eyes, and she tried to shake them away. ‘Nobody else would have stayed. But he did.’
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Fucksake Benel, this is not about you.’
‘I know you blame yourself for his death.’
She bared her teeth, gripping onto the covers of the bed, her knuckles white.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he said. ‘You made the hardest choice possible, and gave him the peace he needed. He was in pain, and you acted with mercy and kindness. I couldn’t have done it.’
Shella put her head in her hands and wept.
Like putting a sick animal out of its misery, that’s what the old Kell bastard had said, when he had informed her that Jayki’s mind was in torment, and that she needed to do the merciful thing. She had sat on the information for four days, spending most of that time by his bedside, gazing at him in unsleeping exhaustion. He looked at peace, but Kalayne had insisted that what was left of his conscious mind was screaming in agony. On the fifth morning she stopped his heart.
Benel took her hand, but she pulled it away.
‘You did a good thing,’ he said, ‘but there was a price, and you’re paying it.’
He passed her the weedstick, and she took a deep draw. Her tears subsided, and she blinked.
‘What are you doing today?’ he said.
‘Same old shit,’ she said. ‘Nothing.’
‘No invitations to any parties?’
She snorted.
Benel shrugged. ‘I suppose you can’t host a party if your guests are likely to be arrested by the One True Path for going out after dark. And with no booze it’d be a terrible party anyway. It’s a pity. In these end days, you’d expect a few decent nights out at a minimum. ’
‘Keira’s coming, and you’re worried about not being able to go to a good party?’
‘If the city’s going to burn, then I would rather be drunk when it happens.’
‘A mad barbarian’s going to end the empire,’ she said, smoking. ‘Seems fitting.’
‘Maybe she’s tired after annihilating two imperial armies,’ Benel said. ‘Do you know, she must have killed more people than anyone in history. Rahain, Rakanese, more Rahain, Sanang, Holdings and even more Rahain. It’s quite a list. And I must admit, we had fun times together, me and Keira.’
‘I bet she hated you.’
Benel nodded. ‘Without a doubt, but I certainly enjoyed it. Well at least until we got caught, and it ruined my career. That wasn’t so good.’
‘What was she like?’
‘Madder than Kalayne, and cocky. A cocky little bitch.’
‘Little?’
Benel grinned. ‘Well not exactly little. But when I saw her incinerate a hundred Rahain soldiers when we took their gatehouse…’ He shook his head. ‘I thought, she could do anything. With that power, anything she wanted. Unfortunately for us, she’s decided to destroy the world.’
‘I wonder if Kylon ever found her,’ Shella said. ‘He’d stop her.’
Benel raised an eyebrow. ‘Kylon?’
‘A Kellach guy that helped us during the siege in Akhanawarah.’
‘You had Kellach with you?’
‘Just a few. Kalayne had given them a vision, and they came looking for me. Anyway, Kylon was their leader, and he was also Keira’s lover, or at least he claimed to be. When we parted, he said he was going to look for her.’
‘Kalayne sent him to find you?’
‘So he could save my life, which he did, a couple of times. He said it was because Kalayne believes I have some sort of role to play in the future, though fuck knows what. That o
ld bastard spouts so much shit it’s hard to tell if any of it’s true. ’
Benel’s grin faded.
‘Kalayne might be an arsehole, but what he says invariably turns out to be true.’
Shella shrugged, and stubbed the weedstick out into an ashtray on the bedside table.
‘I should get up,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘With the entire city under curfew, the morale of the staff downstairs is rock bottom. Daly said I should go down and talk to them.’
‘Are you not worried that one of them will tell the church about you?’
Shella frowned. ‘For what?’
‘For ignoring the summons for all mages to report for service to the empire?’
‘Fuck that,’ Shella laughed. ‘I’m the ambassador, not to mention a princess, in case you’d forgotten. There’s no way they’d lay hands on me. And as long as Kalayne’s protecting the embassy, the mage-priests can’t see that you’re here. We’re safe if we stay indoors.’
‘You think you’re above the law?’
‘We have diplomatic immunity,’ she said. ‘Why do you think they let us drink and smoke? That fuckwit Rijon told me they had a pile of evidence on us for possession of illegal substances.’
‘This is different,’ Benel said. ‘They need mages for whatever they’re doing at the institute. Some of them must have died in the earthquake, and they need replacements. This is more important to them than weed and booze.’
Shella looked away. ‘Whatever.’
‘Did Kalayne tell you about the fighting in the Kellach district?’
‘Yeah,’ she lied.
‘Well?’ he said. ‘If the One True Path are prepared to go in there dressed for a battle, all because of a rumour that there was a fire mage in hiding, then…’
‘Shut up,’ she said. ‘What is it that you think I should do? Hand myself in? Run away? ’
‘I think you should at least consider running.’
‘Fucking coward. The embassy will evacuate when we get orders to do so.’
She swung her legs out of bed and stood. She bowed her head, trying to summon the will to get dressed. With the streets empty except for patrolling church wardens, she had been confined to the embassy for days, passing the time with Benel and his supply of alcohol and drugs. She glanced at the bed, where the Holdings man was preparing another weedstick.
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