Needs of the Empire

by Christopher Mitchell

  He strapped the sword to his belt and slung his shield over his shoulder. He packed a large bag with their things, and dressed Karalyn in warm clothes .

  ‘Me do it,’ she squealed as he pulled a woollen hat over her ears.

  ‘I know, but we’re in a hurry.’

  He shoved a few bottles of gin into the bag, picked up Karalyn and the lamp, and opened the tent door. They went out into the open air, and the guard on duty nodded to him.

  ‘Chief.’

  Killop nodded back and walked to Bridget’s tent. He was impatient to be gone, but knew he had to tell someone.

  He knocked. When there was no reply, he opened the flap and snuck in. Bridget and Bedig were lying asleep on a low mattress against the far wall, with trunks and cases piled up next to the bed.

  Killop put the lamp down on a small table, as Karalyn wriggled in his arms.

  ‘Bridget,’ he called out.

  She turned and stretched.

  ‘Bidgit,’ cried Karalyn.

  She opened her eyes, blinking in the lamplight.

  ‘Killop?’ she frowned. ‘You’d better have a fucking good reason for interrupting my dream about the party we’re going to have when we get back to Domm. It was just getting interesting.’

  ‘Daphne’s in trouble.’

  She sat up. She lifted Bedig’s arm off her waist and put it down by his side as he continued to sleep.

  ‘What time is it?’ she said, rubbing her eyes.

  ‘A few hours after midnight.’

  ‘I take it Daphne has sent you a message?’

  ‘Aye. Douanna captured her.’

  ‘Fuck.’

  ‘She said she lost her vision powers.’

  Bridget raised an eyebrow. ‘Then how the fuck did she communicate with you?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘She wasn’t in my head for long, just a few moments.’

  ‘Where is she? ’

  ‘At the entrance to the Great Tunnel.’

  Bridget sighed. ‘We should send a squad of Brynt’s militia after her.’

  Killop said nothing.

  ‘Fucksake,’ she said, ‘the chief shouldn’t be doing this sort of work. You can’t be running off into the night, trying to be a hero. The clan needs you.’

  ‘We’ll be back soon.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘I’ll be taking Karalyn.’

  ‘No, you fucking won’t,’ Bridget said. ‘If you have to go, and I get it, she’s your woman and you feel it’s your duty and all that, then you’ll be taking a squad of the meanest bastards we’ve got, not a one-year-old bairn.’

  ‘I need her to find Daphne.’

  ‘No fucking way.’

  ‘I’m not going to argue with you,’ he said. ‘I need a wagon and four gaien, and I’m taking Karalyn. You can send along whoever you like as a guard or whatever, but if they slow me down I’ll leave them behind.’

  She got out of bed, her long nightdress reaching the mats covering the ground.

  ‘It’s more complicated than that,’ she said. ‘I was up past midnight working, and heard the reports from the day scout when he came in. There’s word of a new army being mobilised in Tahrana City. They’re due to march in the direction of Jade Falls in a few days. If you go to the tunnel, then the army might be between you and the rest of the clan by the time you find Daphne. And what if Douanna’s already in the tunnel? The settlement at the entrance is about thirty-five miles from here. Say you leave right away. Then, on a gaien-drawn wagon you’ll reach the tunnel in about five or six hours. Have you any idea of the queues at the fort that build up each morning? The scout said they could be miles long.’

  ‘We’re wasting time.’

  Bridget stifled a sob, a tear escaping from her eye.

  ‘If you’re going,’ she said, ‘then I want to kiss Karalyn goodbye. ’

  He frowned. ‘I’m coming back.’

  Bridget leaned over and kissed Karalyn on the forehead.

  ‘I’m coming back,’ he said again.

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘You don’t believe it, but.’

  She hugged them both, the tears spilling down her face. He put his arms around her. She pulled back from the embrace and rubbed her eyes.

  ‘You made me cry, you stupid bastard.’

  ‘If anything happens to me,’ he said, ‘the clan won’t hesitate to appoint you chief. You’re the best of us, Bridget, and I would have been nothing without you. You’ll make a great chief one day.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Give me half an hour,’ she said. ‘I’ll get everything prepared.’

  Killop and Karalyn returned to their tent. He looked through some of Daphne’s things, and filled a second case with her clothes. He found her supply of weed and though he was tempted to leave it, packed it with the gin and cigarettes.

  He re-emerged from the tent with Karalyn and the two large bags, to find Brynt standing outside.

  ‘Chief,’ he said, ‘I’ve got the half-squad Bridget asked for. All tough bastards, just as you wanted. They’re waiting for you over by the road.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Can I ask where you’re going, Chief? Seems an odd hour to be leaving.’

  ‘I’m meeting Daphne tomorrow in a town close by. Once I pick her up, I’ll be back with the clan in a day or so.’

  Brynt nodded, but his eyes were wary. He picked up the two cases.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Killop. He lifted Karalyn and they walked towards the road to the north.

  ‘I’ve had three days’ supply of food loaded, Chief,’ Brynt said, his thick arms carrying the two heavy bags without any trouble. ‘Two of the half-squad have longbows, so they’ll be able to hunt if you run short. Bridget also asked me to get some gold from the treasury, and so I’ve got a purse with fifty sovereigns on my belt for you.’

  Killop’s mind wandered as the man talked. Bridget had known of his and Daphne’s reluctance to travel to Domm, and she had criticised his decision to station himself at the rear of the convoy, leaving her to lead the way from Slateford. Once he had found Daphne, then his choices would be clearer. Did he want to be chief? Without Slateford, what would it mean to be chief, if the Severed Clan was absorbed into the rest of the Kellach Brigdomin living in the Domm haven? He realised he had never asked Daphne where she wanted to go.

  They reached the road.

  An open-topped wagon was waiting, with two pairs of gaien attached. Four of Brynt’s militia sat in the back, with another up on the driver’s bench. The squad leader was standing by the wagon. Her eyes were tired, but she wore the expression of someone who had faced worse than being woken in the middle of the night for duty.

  ‘Chief,’ she nodded.

  Brynt passed the two cases up to the four militia on the wagon, who placed them alongside the other luggage and supplies that were piled up at the front by the driver’s bench.

  Killop looked around for Bridget, but she wasn’t there.

  ‘At dawn,’ Brynt said, handing him the purse of coins, ‘the clan will be on the road west. I’ll see you in a few days.’

  Killop nodded, and passed Karalyn up to the soldiers. He gripped the sideboard and pulled himself into the back of the wagon.

  The squad leader climbed up and sat next to him, and the driver cracked his whip. Brynt raised an arm in farewell as the wagon lurched down the road. Killop laid Karalyn down next to him on the bench and wrapped her in blankets.

  ‘Go to sleep, wee bear,’ he said. He sat back for a moment, watching as the wagon drew away from the camp, and back towards the river crossing .

  He settled down next to her, his arm ensuring she didn’t roll off the bench. He glanced up at the squad leader.

  ‘Wake us when we get to the tunnel.’

  The morning sun was shining down on the Tahrana Valley when Killop was nudged by the squad leader. They had stopped at the end of a long line of wagons and carriages, stretching several hundred yards towards the fort where the tunnel
began.

  ‘Here we are, Chief,’ the squad leader said, ‘in the queue to get through.’

  The militia were in the back of the wagon sharing a cold meal, and they passed some meat and bread to Killop, along with a mug of ale. He woke Karalyn and changed her nappy. He wrapped her up warm, and tore some food into small pieces for her.

  The driver turned his head back to look at them.

  ‘This’ll take hours, Chief. We’re moving a few yards forward every five minutes. We’re not even in the town yet.’

  Killop gazed up as he ate. The first houses of the settlement were a hundred yards away. He glanced down at Karalyn.

  ‘Where’s mama?’ he said.

  The little girl’s eyes clouded over for a moment, then she pointed up the road towards the tunnel.

  ‘What’s she doing, Chief?’ the squad leader said. ‘How does she know where Miss Daphne is?’

  Killop finished his meal. ‘I remember Laodoc telling me that there’s a separate entrance if you’re on foot with no wagon, and it’s much quicker to pass through into the tunnel.’

  The militia said nothing.

  ‘You lot stay here,’ Killop went on. ‘I’ll take Karalyn and go on ahead.’

  The squad leader pursed her lips. ‘Umm, Brynt told us not to leave your side, Chief. ’

  Killop shook his head. ‘Six members of the clan militia might get held up at the entrance, and there’s no time to get you looking like civilians. Me and the wee one will get through fine.’

  ‘But Brynt…’

  ‘I’m the chief, squad leader, not Brynt. If I tell you to stay here, then you stay here.’

  He stood, and jumped off the side of the wagon. He reached over and picked up Karalyn and put her down on the ground, then grabbed their two large bags. The squad leader was frowning at him, her eyes narrowed.

  ‘But, Chief,’ she said, ‘do you want us to stay in the queue, or should we park up and wait for you to get back?’

  ‘Rest up for the day,’ he said. ‘If we haven’t returned by dawn tomorrow, report back to Bridget.’

  He slung the bags over his broad shoulders, and took Karalyn’s hand. She raised her arms to get picked up.

  ‘You’ll have to walk a bit today, wee bear.’

  He glanced up at the warriors, who were all staring back.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘See you later.’

  He turned and strode off up the road, leading Karalyn by the hand as she tried to keep up. He felt a twinge of guilt for abandoning the half-squad, who would no doubt get a furious dressing down from Brynt and Bridget when they returned to the clan without him.

  He frowned. Was his mind made up? Was he walking out on the clan, deserting them? He would decide when he found Daphne.

  They walked past the lines of stationary carriages and wagons. The majority of folk in the queue were peasant Rahain, fleeing the turmoil with all the possessions they could load onto the back of a wagon. Many looked desperate, while others sat back with their eyes closed as they waited. Dotted among the queue were a mixture of merchants, New Free militia and a couple of parties of Kellach, who watched him as he walked by with the child.

  As they were passing an open enclosure of gaien, Karalyn stopped, tugging on his hand .

  ‘Mama’s horse,’ she said.

  Killop turned, and saw that a small corner of the enclosure had been fenced off, and contained a number of horses.

  ‘Mama’s horse,’ Karalyn repeated.

  ‘Let’s go see.’

  They turned off the road, and approached a small shack at the far end of the enclosure. An old Rahain woman was standing outside, watching them.

  ‘Good morning,’ Killop said.

  ‘How can I help you?’ said the old woman, her eyes flitting between Killop and the dark-skinned little girl at his side.

  ‘That white horse,’ he said, pointing at the beast in the small field. ‘Did you see the Holdings woman who brought it here?’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘And who is it that’s doing the asking?’

  Killop gestured to the girl. ‘This is her daughter. We’re meeting her later, and she’ll need her horse.’

  ‘Mama’s horse,’ Karalyn said, smiling up at the old woman.

  The Rahain chuckled. ‘Very well, though she never mentioned anything about someone else coming to collect her stallion.’

  ‘Plan’s changed.’

  ‘Did she tell you about the fee that is owed to me?’

  Killop shook his head.

  ‘Six sovereigns.’

  He frowned. ‘Seems a little steep.’

  The old woman shrugged. ‘She arrived in the middle of the night. I had to get up and stable and feed him. Anyway, she agreed.’

  Killop counted out the money and handed it over. The old woman smiled and went off to the horse enclosure. Killop pulled off the two large bags, and rubbed his shoulders. He watched as the old woman saddled the horse, and attached its harness. She held onto the reins and walked the beast out, shutting the fence gate behind her.

  ‘Here he is, sir. And might I say what a beautiful animal he is too.’

  Killop’s mouth went dry as the beast drew near. Its eyes were almost level with his, its breath pluming from its wet nostrils. Its white coat glistened in the sunlight.

  ‘Here you go, sir,’ the old woman said, handing him the reins.

  ‘Up, up,’ said Karalyn.

  ‘You want to ride on the saddle, wee bear?’

  ‘Aye, aye!’

  He glanced at the old woman. ‘Is that safe?’

  She frowned at him. ‘Do you have much experience with these animals, sir?’

  ‘Not much,’ he said. ‘None.’

  She shook her head. ‘Put her in the saddle, and I’ll strap her legs in. She’ll be fine up there. As for you, just remember not to approach from behind. It can make them nervous and he might kick you. Do you know what to feed him?’

  Killop shook his head as he picked up Karalyn and sat her down on the saddle. The old woman attached straps to her legs, and looped the reins round her wrists. Killop lifted the two heavy cases, and secured them to the back of the horse.

  The old woman went into her shack and emerged with a feeding bag. She tied it next to the cases on the stallion’s back.

  ‘Put this over his nose. You’ll get two or three feeds out of it. And make sure he gets plenty of water.’

  Killop nodded. ‘Thanks.’

  He held onto the reins and began leading the horse back to the main road, while Karalyn squealed with joy from the saddle. He smiled. The beast was keeping her amused, and he had to admit it was an improvement not having to carry the two huge cases around. They reached the road, and turned left towards the tunnel.

  The town grew busier as they got closer to the large fortress built into the side of the cliff-face. Taverns and shops lined the main street, and traders selling refreshments wandered among the queuing traffic. The road passed through a pair of enormous arched gates, where New Free soldiers were carrying out searches and collecting toll payments from those attempting to enter. To the left of the line of wagons was a smaller entrance, where those on foot were waiting.

  The New Free guards on duty glanced over at him as he led the horse to the back of the shorter queue. It was moving quickly, and within a few minutes they were at the front.

  ‘Destination and purpose?’ said one of the guards, while the others walked round the horse, poking at the luggage.

  ‘The imperial capital,’ he said. ‘I’m taking this child back to her home.’

  ‘And is this your horse?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Right. It’ll be two gold each for you and the kid, and four for the beast.’

  Killop counted out the coins in silence and handed them over.

  The guards pulled back from the gate and Killop passed through, leading the stallion under the arched opening and into a large courtyard. On either side were stone buildings, with a blacksmiths and barracks w
here a few dozen New Free militia lounged. Ahead was the entrance to the tunnel, a great, almost circular opening in the side of the cliff. The wagons coming through the gate to his right were moving up a shallow ramp and passing into the lamplight interior.

  Killop joined the main road behind a large gaien-drawn carriage, and they entered the tunnel. He took a quick glance back to see the blue sky above, then turned to face forwards, his eyes adjusting to the dim light.

  ‘Where’s mama?’ he whispered to Karalyn.

  The girl pointed ahead.

  Killop nodded, and picked up his pace to overtake the carriage. ‘She’s got a head start of five or six hours on us, wee bear. We’ll need to hurry.’

  Karalyn smiled down at him. ‘We find mama.’

  There were mile markers engraved into the walls of the tunnel, and Killop counted them off as they hastened through the first underground stretch of the great pass through the Grey Mountains. Every few miles he would ask Karalyn, and each time she would point ahead. They passed dozens of wagons, carriages and carts in the wide tunnel, their gaien labouring up the continuous incline while Killop and the white horse kept up a brisk pace.

  At the eighteen-mile marker, there was a large sign proclaiming that they had reached the halfway stage of the first tunnel section. To the right, a huge space had been carved out of the rock, where dozens of wagons were parked in deep booths. In the rear, a row of taverns were serving the travellers food and drink. Four deep ventilation shafts pierced the ceiling, and a last glimpse of daylight was visible outside as the sun set.

  Killop paused, scanning the booths lining the walls, each containing a resting wagon.

  He nudged Karalyn, who was dozing in the saddle, her head resting against their luggage.

  ‘Mama?’ he said.

  She opened her eyes and looked around the cavern. Her gaze fell upon a covered wagon in a nearby booth, where a Rahain man sat resting on the driver’s bench. Karalyn pointed at him.

  ‘Mama.’

  Killop’s heart raced. His legs were tired from the long climb through the tunnel, but he loosened his sword in its scabbard, and tied up his leather cuirass. He led the horse over to a long water trough, and the stallion began to take noisy gulps, while he examined the covered wagon from the corner of his eye. There was movement in the rear of the wagon behind the man on the driver’s bench, but it was in the shadow of the deep booth, and he couldn’t tell how many others were back there.