Needs of the Empire

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘Very good, thank you,’ Hodang said. As he turned towards Keira’s tent Agang caught his eye .

  ‘How’s life, old friend?’ Agang called out.

  Hodang looked embarrassed, but approached the wagon.

  ‘I’m still alive,’ he said. ‘As are you, I see.’

  ‘Making yourself useful?’

  ‘One does ones best, I suppose.’

  ‘Well,’ Agang said, attempting a weak smile. ‘All the best.’

  Hodang nodded, and dashed away.

  Flora glanced at Agang. ‘All the best? For fuck’s sake, man, the guy betrayed you.’

  ‘I couldn’t think of what else to say. That’s the first time he’s acknowledged me since we left Sanang. I didn’t think he’d actually come over.’

  ‘How the fuck did you ever become king?’

  Agang frowned, his anger rising. He stopped himself, the ridiculousness of his situation striking home. He started to laugh, slowly at first, but soon it was uncontrollable. He gripped his sides as tears streamed down his face, his laughter loud and sharp. Flora stayed quiet, an eyebrow raised.

  His laughter took a turn, and he sobbed, then quietened. He bowed his head, the depths of his humiliation threatening to drown him in self-pity. He stared at the tight leather and twisted cords that bound him to the wagon, the skin on his wrists and ankles smooth despite the constant rubbing.

  ‘Will Keira make the world better?’ he said.

  ‘She’ll save it, but it’s up to the rest of us to make it better.’

  The afternoon went by, and the light dimmed beneath the looming clouds overhead. The masses of Sanang warriors began to thin as they passed the command tents, and Agang could see the end of the line on the road to the west. For hours he had watched the high gates of the city, but there was no movement. Keira had emerged twice in that time to scan the walls and gate, and each time she had returned to her tent with a face like thunder.

  B’Dang returned to the clearing, bringing Echtang and a couple of other Sanang officers, and they sat by a small fire while servants offered them food and drink. Leah kept a silent watch on them from where she was reclining on the wagon’s bench, but the chieftain sat with his back to her and never once glanced in her direction.

  Kylon walked into the clearing, deep in discussion with more Sanang officers. He was giving them their orders, and Agang could see from the officers’ faces that they feared him.

  Agang frowned. ‘There he goes, the true architect of our despair.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, son,’ said a voice to his right. Agang turned. An old Kellach man was sitting next to him on the wagon’s bench.

  ‘What the fuck!’ Flora cried. ‘Where did you appear from?’

  ‘Calm yourself, lassie,’ the old man said. ‘I’ve been sitting here for ages. It’s not my fault you didn’t notice me.’

  Flora sat back down, saying nothing. Agang narrowed his eyes.

  ‘Who are you?’

  The old man gazed at him. ‘You are Agang Garo.’ He turned to the Holdings trooper. ‘And you are Flora, the white-faced witch. I am Kalayne.’

  ‘Kalayne?’ said Flora. ‘The one who…?’

  ‘Aye,’ the old man grinned, his eyes bulging. ‘I’m the bastard who planned all this.’

  ‘You mean that was true?’ Agang said. ‘You’ve been putting visions in Kylon’s head? But how? You’re not Holdings.’

  ‘Clearly,’ he said. He turned to face the city gates. ‘Now, what were you all looking at? You’ve been staring like fools at the gates for ages. What do you expect to happen?’

  Agang glanced at Flora.

  ‘Keira sent a herald to the city,’ he said.

  Kalayne frowned. ‘Why?’

  ‘She said she wanted to offer the civilians the chance to evacuate.’

  The old man glared at him like he was a misbehaving child. ‘Keira? ’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Keira the fire mage said that?’

  Agang nodded.

  ‘Was she drunk?’

  ‘For once, no,’ Agang said, ‘though she might be by now. She’s been in her tent drinking wine ever since she sent her message, waiting for a reply.’

  ‘She won’t get one,’ Kalayne said. ‘The Emperor and his priests are too focussed on the Creator’s plan to bother answering a herald. They won’t allow anything to distract them. They’re going as fast as they can, to bring about their plan before Keira can strike.’

  Agang froze as the old man turned to stare at him, his eyes boring through him.

  ‘Still,’ Kalayne went on, ‘that is disturbing news about Keira. Can it be that the fire goddess has found a conscience? A day too fucking early, if you ask me.’

  He leered at Flora, as if he were a hungry predator about to pounce.

  ‘Stop it,’ she said. ‘Whatever the fuck you’re doing.’

  ‘Just examining what kind of person you are, Miss Flora of Hold Cane,’ he smirked, ‘and doing it in the most efficient manner possible.’

  ‘Were you in my head?’

  ‘Do you have a cigarette? Or anything stronger?’

  Flora glared at him, her fingers grasping her crossbow.

  ‘No?’ Kalayne said. ‘Never mind. It appears that I have arrived at the right moment, just as the fire goddess has started feeling compassion for the innocent. Not to worry though, I’ll fix her.’

  He turned to face the clearing.

  ‘Kylon,’ he cried. ‘Come over here, you miserable shite.’

  Kylon blinked, his mouth opening. The Sanang next to him gazed over at the wagon, puzzled looks on their faces, as if they couldn’t see who had spoken.

  Up on the driver’s bench, Leah jerked her head round. She saw the old Kellach man and her eyes widened. She rolled, and fell off the bench, landing on the back of the wagon next to Flora .

  ‘Ya auld bastard,’ Leah muttered. ‘Stop sneaking about.’

  Kalayne chuckled to himself as Kylon approached the wagon.

  Leah got up and rubbed her arm.

  ‘Kalayne,’ Kylon frowned. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’

  ‘Why would you be? Now run along and fetch the fire mage, there’s a good boy.’

  Kylon scowled but said nothing. He strode across to Keira’s tent and went in.

  Leah sniggered.

  ‘What are you laughing at, blondie?’ Kalayne said. ‘Have you forgotten my prophecy for you? I do believe that’s Agang sitting on the opposite bench.’ He tapped his nose. ‘And I predict there may be a chance of fire later.’

  Leah’s mouth hung open. ‘Fuck you.’

  She jumped down from the wagon and stormed off to her tent, spitting on the ground near B’Dang as she passed him.

  Agang turned to the old Kellach man. ‘What prophecy?’

  ‘None of your business,’ Kalayne said, squinting at him. ‘Do you want to see what your future holds?’

  Agang snorted. ‘You’re speaking nonsense, old man.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ Kalayne shrugged. He turned to Flora. ‘What about you?’

  ‘Not a fucking chance,’ she said, ‘and if you were in my head before, keep what you saw to yourself.’

  ‘If you say so,’ he said, ‘although I’m sure she wouldn’t care if you told her.’

  ‘That’s what I’m worried about, you arsehole.’

  Agang kept his face blank.

  Kalayne looked amused. ‘Ahh, the secrets in this wagon.’ He winked at Agang. ‘You have a fair few.’

  The blood drained from Agang’s face.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ said Flora, her expression lifting. ‘Like what?’

  Agang clenched his fists, his mouth dry. Was the old man bluffing? If he could go into Kylon’s head, then could he read what was buried inside his own mind?

  ‘It’s not my place to reveal those sorts of secrets,’ Kalayne said. ‘In time they’ll come out on their own.’

  ‘Spoilsport,’ Flora muttered.

  Agang tried to control his breathing,
his heart pounding.

  Flora gazed at him. ‘I have a few suspicions of my own.’

  ‘Some of them are partly true,’ Kalayne said. Agang and Flora stared at him. He shrugged. ‘I’ll say no more about it.’

  Agang glanced at Flora, then looked away. The crowds of passing warriors had thinned to a slow trickle, with only the odd group still to join the rest of the army facing the walls. The unlit bonfires that ran behind the ranks of warriors were piled high, and oil was being poured on the one nearest the command tents. He caught sight of Kylon striding across the clearing.

  ‘She’s not moving,’ he said as he arrived at the wagon. ‘If you’ve got anything to say to her, you’ll have to go and see her.’

  ‘Bloody awkward cow,’ Kalayne said. ‘Still, look on the bright side, it’ll probably be a lot warmer in there. Lead on, my boy, and tell your fair mistress that we shall be along shortly.’

  Kylon nodded, and returned back across the clearing.

  Kalayne took a knife from his boot and cut the cords that bound Agang to the wagon.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Flora cried.

  ‘Ach, don’t make a fuss, Miss Whiteface,’ Kalayne said, ‘he won’t run away.’ He turned to Agang, who was rubbing his wrists. ‘You need to hear what I have to say to the fire goddess, so listen well.’

  He leapt off the wagon, and began walking to Keira’s tent. He turned.

  ‘Come on,’ he yelled to Agang and Flora.

  They shrugged at each other and climbed down to the ground. Flora raised her crossbow at Agang. He nodded, and they set off after Kalayne. B’Dang and the other Sanang officers seemed oblivious to them as they walked across the clearing, and Agang gazed at the old Kellach man, wondering what kind of powers he possessed that could make them appear invisible. They entered the tent, passing guards that flanked the entrance, and went through a reception area and into a smaller room.

  Keira sat in a large chair, a bottle of wine in one hand and a lit weedstick in the other. Fern knelt at her feet, her face giddy from the thick fog of smoke in the cramped canvas-enclosed space. A solitary lantern gave the room a golden glow. Kylon stood in its shadows against the wall, his face in darkness.

  ‘You’ve all come?’ cried Keira. ‘Well that’s fucking great. Is it time to kill twenty thousand bairns yet? Sit down, have a drink first.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Kalayne grinned, picking up a bottle of wine and taking the only other chair in the room.

  Keira raised an eyebrow at Agang.

  ‘That mad old bastard freed him,’ Flora said.

  ‘Thought as fucking much. Anyway, both of you, drink.’

  Agang sat on the floor next to Fern, who gave him a sleepy look. Flora hesitated for a moment, then crouched down by Kalayne, keeping her crossbow ready.

  ‘Relax, my wee witch,’ Keira said to her. ‘What’s Agang going to do? Attack us? Run for it? Frankly I couldn’t give a flying fuck what he does now. Take a drink. Let’s get mangled before we destroy countless fucking lives.’

  ‘So you’ll do it?’ Kalayne said.

  Keira frowned. ‘I’ve come all this way, haven’t I? I’m glad I sent the herald. I gave the fuckers a chance, and it’s not my fault they spurned it.’ She glared at Kalayne. ‘So you can forget your ideas about messing with my head. There’s no need.’

  She took a long swig of wine, as Kalayne eyed her.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Now, I have something to say before I leave you to the destruction of Plateau City.’

  ‘A new prophecy?’ Keira smirked.

  ‘An old one, or rather one I’d not properly understood until recently.’

  He took a swig of wine .

  ‘Shella,’ he said.

  ‘Who?’ Keira said.

  ‘The mage I sent Kylon to rescue from the Rakanese camp,’ he said. ‘I had a series of visions about her, back when we were in Kell. You were in one.’

  Keira shrugged. ‘So?’

  ‘Well, have you ever met her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then the vision remains unfulfilled,’ he said. ‘Remember this. You’ll need Shella at the very end.’

  ‘What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?’

  Kalayne frowned. ‘Have you lost the ability to understand simple words? Anyway, thanks for the hospitality, you were a charming host as always.’ He stood. ‘I bid you farewell, my beloved fire goddess. Steel yourself for what must be done. I know you suffer, and for that I’m sorry. But only you can save the world.’

  He turned to leave. On his way out he whispered something to Kylon, whose eyes widened as he watched the old man stride from the tent.

  ‘Well, that was fun,’ said Keira. ‘Is it dark yet? Is the army in position?’

  Kylon remained silent, staring into space.

  ‘Hoi!’ Keira cried. ‘Wake the fuck up.’

  He turned to her. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘Everything’s ready. Say the word, and the first bonfire will be lit.’

  She nodded, and took another swig of wine.

  ‘You’ve changed your mind about the civilians?’ said Agang. ‘There are forty thousand Kellach Brigdomin in the city.’

  ‘Aye,’ she said. ‘Followers of Duncan the Arsehole. Half of them are serving in the fucking imperial army. The rest are just poor bastards who happen to be in the wrong place.’

  ‘But you can’t just slaughter them…’ He raised his arm, and Flora swung her crossbow up and pointed it at his chest.

  ‘She has to,’ said Kylon. ‘The priests inside the city are close to achieving their aims. We must attack tonight, by tomorrow it will be too late.’

  ‘And all of this is based upon the word of that old man?’ Agang said, lowering his hands. ‘I pray he’s right.’

  ‘He is,’ Kylon said. ‘In all the time he guided us in Kell, planning the raids and attacks against the Rahain occupiers, he was never wrong.’

  ‘It’s funny,’ said Keira. ‘Once I’ve burned the city, we’ll never know if he was right or not.’

  ‘Try not to dwell on it,’ Kylon said.

  She threw the bottle at his head. He ducked and it scuffed off his shoulder, sending a red spray across the canvas wall.

  ‘Fuck you,’ she yelled, getting to her feet. ‘You and me, it’s dead, we’re done. After all this is over I never want to see you again. Your fucking soul is shrivelled and rotten. Now get the fuck out. Tell those bastards to light their fucking bonfires, then get ready to watch the greatest show you’ve seen in your miserable fucked-up life.’

  Kylon’s eyes revealed a well of pain, then his face darkened, and he strode from the tent.

  Keira sat down and leaned back, a weedstick in her lips.

  Agang looked around the tent. Flora was frowning, her head lowered. Fern had almost passed out, and was reclining against the wide chair where Keira sat smoking.

  His heart froze. He knew what he should do. He had an opportunity, probably the only one he would ever get, to prevent the inferno about to engulf Plateau City. He was sitting a couple of feet from Keira; it would be over in seconds.

  But what if she was right?

  What if the old Kellach man was speaking the truth? If Agang killed the firewitch, then would the Holdings church unleash something worse than the destruction of a city?

  He paused.

  Keira sighed and stood. She stretched her arms out, then rubbed her face. She glanced at Agang.

  ‘You coming? ’

  He stared at her. She shrugged, and left the room.

  Agang got up and ran after her. A great roar came from the Sanang ranks as the firewitch emerged from the tent. To their left, the first bonfire had been lit, and in the light of its flames Agang could see the masses of warriors, and beyond, the high walls and barred gates of the city, framed against the dark sky.

  ‘Kill-kill, kill-kill,’ echoed up from the huge army, the breeze sending the low chant up to the imperial soldiers on the city battlements. Agang took up position by Kylon, who glared at him
, but said nothing.

  In the centre of the clearing Keira raised her left arm and the Sanang roared as a tower of flame rose from the bonfire, its glare reflecting off the thick clouds.

  ‘This is the last time,’ she said. ‘After tonight, I’m done.’

  She hurled her arm forwards.

  A great mass of fire flew through the air, and the destruction of the city began.

  Chapter 32

  Promises

  T ahrana Valley, Imperial Rahain – 19 th Day, Second Third Winter 506

  A searing wind howled down the length of the Tahrana valley, bringing freezing hail and sleet from the west. The Severed Clan pressed on along the churned-up muddy road towards the river crossing, the gaien snorting their discomfort as they hauled the hundreds of wagons and carts.

  Daphne shivered beneath her woollen cloak from where she sat next to Killop on one of the rear wagons. Between them, Karalyn was nestled under a pile of blankets with only her face visible, her eyes watering from the stinging wind.

  In the back of the wagon, under its canvas canopy, a dozen Kellach Brigdomin were sheltering from the weather. They were older folk, among those most reluctant to leave Slateford, and from their expressions Killop knew that a few now carried regrets at their departure.

  Daphne touched his arm and nodded to their right, across the barren wastes of the great valley floor.

  ‘There’s more of them,’ she said.

  Killop frowned. Up on a low ridge a mile to the east a band of Rahain were watching the Kellach convoy pass .

  ‘Which side are they on?’ Daphne asked. ‘Can you tell from here?’

  Killop strained his eyes. Despite that fact that it was morning, the sky was dull and grey.

  ‘New Free,’ he said. ‘One of them’s carrying an imperial banner. I can see the five-pointed star.’

  Daphne smiled at him. ‘It’s like you have battle-vision sight all the time.’

  He shrugged. ‘It seemed normal to us, until we met other folk, and realised they couldn’t see or hear as well as we can.’

  ‘Or heal themselves,’ Daphne said. ‘And you never get ill…’

  ‘What can I say?’ Killop said. ‘The Creator blessed us.’