Sacrifice

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘That’s the other reason I’m out here,’ Agang said, ‘to try to persuade you to stay.’

  ‘Here with the fire mage?’ Laodoc asked, narrowing his eyes.

  ‘And me and Flora, a Holdings woman,’ Agang said. ‘If you don’t like it you could always re-join the clan.’

  ‘So tell me,’ Laodoc said, ‘is living with Keira tolerable?’

  Agang shrugged. ‘I like her. She takes a bit of getting used to. Drinks too much, a bit like the Sanang do, and I’ve had to heal her more than once after a bar fight, but you need to hear her story.’

  Laodoc turned from the sunset, his heart full.

  ‘And where is Keira just now? I think I would like to talk to her.’

  Keira was holding court in a small alcove within the busy tavern. The shutters along the western wall were spread open, allowing the last rays of the day to flood into the room. At Keira’s table sat four others. Two were young and pretty Kellach women, one was the older owner of the place, and the last was a dark-skinned Holdings woman, clutching a glass of whisky as Keira talked.

  ‘If we’d been born in Sanang, none of us would have seen the light of day until we were led out to be married. And even then we’d be covered up in big sheets, so nae fucker could look at us.’

  ‘Why?’ asked one of the young women.

  ‘The men there treat women like possessions, and get jealous if any other man speaks to them, or even fucking looks at them. It’s mental. ’

  The Holdings woman looked up and saw Laodoc and Agang approach.

  ‘We could ask the man himself,’ she said. ‘Here he is, the ex-king of Sanang.’

  They reached the table.

  ‘Keira,’ Agang said, ‘this is Laodoc.’

  The fire mage glanced over. ‘Aye? I met him last night. A right miserable bastard, didn’t say one fucking word to me.’

  ‘You barely gave me a chance, madam,’ Laodoc said. ‘You punched Bridget in the face not two minutes after you sat down. And then, I believe, the evening was over.’

  Keira squinted at him. ‘Think yer funny?’

  ‘Not at all, madam. I am merely interested in listening to the tales you tell here each day. Agang has assured me that I would find them fascinating.’

  He sat, and poured a glass of whisky. He held it up.

  ‘The fabled whisky of Kellach Brigdomin?’ he said. ‘In all the chats I used to have with Killop, when he lived in my house in Rahain with Bridget and Kallie, they never failed to mention how much they missed whisky.’

  He took a sip, as Keira sat in silence watching him.

  ‘Lovely,’ he said. ‘Now, madam mage, I would like to stay here in World’s End and listen to your tales, and in return I will tell you everything I know of Killop. Where he lived, what he did, right up until the day he risked his life to save the woman he loved.’

  Keira frowned, then raised her glass. ‘Alright.’ She glanced at the older Kellach woman.

  ‘That’s fine by me,’ she said. ‘I’m Kelpie, by the way, proprietor of this establishment. I can put you on the same ticket as the others, which means you get a room, shared with Agang, and your food and drink. All you have to do is sit by Keira each day as she speaks.’

  ‘It’s a deal, madam,’ Laodoc said.

  Kelpie chuckled. ‘Just think, my tavern will be hosting folk from three foreign countries, the ape-folk, the dark-skinned folk, and now the lizard-folk.’

  She looked around the table. ‘No offence.’

  ‘There’s one more,’ Keira said.

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Where is he?’ Keira muttered, scanning the people in the tavern. ‘There he is. Hoi! Over here.’

  Laodoc’s tongue flickered as Dean emerged from the crowd and walked over.

  ‘This is Dean, Kelpie,’ Keira said.

  ‘Aye, so?’

  ‘We need to add him to the ticket too.’

  ‘And why would I do that?’

  ‘Because he wants to stay here, with me.’

  ‘So what?’ Kelpie said.

  Keira leaned over, grinning. ‘He’s a fucking fire mage.’

  Chapter 4

  Hold Fast

  H old Fast, Realm of the Holdings – 20 th Day, First Third Summer 507

  Daphne muffled a cry and fell back onto the warm straw, listening to the sound of Killop breathing, and feeling the touch of his skin next to hers.

  There was a rustling noise, and she opened her eyes. A horse in the neighbouring stall was looking over the partition wall at Daphne and Killop as they lay together.

  ‘We might have an audience,’ Daphne whispered, reaching down and pulling her underwear and leggings back up.

  Killop laughed.

  ‘We’d better go back out before anyone notices that we’ve been gone a while,’ she said.

  He refastened his clothes and sat up. ‘That was great.’

  ‘I lost my virginity in a stable.’

  Killop raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Not in these stables, I should add,’ she smiled. ‘At the academy in Holdings City. I didn’t have any proper boyfriends until I’d left home.’

  They got to their feet, and smoothed their clothes and hair .

  ‘I lost mine in the toilets behind a tavern,’ Killop said. ‘Not exactly romantic.’

  ‘How old were you?’

  ‘Sixteen.’

  Daphne opened the stall door and peered out. ‘It’s clear, come on.’

  They came out into a long passageway, with lines of stalls down either side. Sunlight was pouring in from great openings in the roof, and the heat mixed with the heady smell of the stables felt more like home to Daphne than anything else in the world. She gazed up at Killop and smiled. He took her hand.

  As they walked towards the exit, they passed the stall with the white stallion they had brought from Rahain.

  Daphne stopped. ‘How are you this morning, boy?’ she said, rubbing the horse’s nose. ‘Shall we go out for a ride later?’ She glanced at Killop. ‘I must choose a name soon. I can’t keep calling him “boy”.’

  ‘What about using the name Karalyn has for him?’

  ‘What, Bedig?’

  Killop shrugged. ‘She must miss the big oaf. Either that, or she sees a resemblance.’

  Daphne laughed. ‘If he had a tuft of red hair on his head, maybe. I don’t know, I named my last horse after a friend who had died.’

  She paused, her thoughts going back to Vince. Over a third had passed since she had learned the news, and she felt her sorrow return, though it was never far from the surface. The stallion nuzzled into the side of her face.

  ‘You alright?’ Killop asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ she nodded. She looked up at the horse. ‘See you soon, boy.’

  Killop took her hand again, and they walked to the open sliding doors of the huge stable-block. Outside, the sun was shining, and the roads around the Holdfast mansion were starting to get busy. Garlands and flags were festooned from every rooftop and balcony, and the tall tower ahead of them was decorated in swathes of coloured banners.

  To their left, the enormous covered pavilion was filled with traders and merchants setting up stalls, and sellers hawking food and drink wandered through the growing crowds.

  ‘I love festival time,’ Daphne said.

  Killop narrowed his eyes at the crowds. ‘I take it that every Hold has its own?’

  ‘Yes,’ Daphne said, ‘though ours is held last. The festivals mark the anniversary of a Hold joining the Realm in the Founding Year of the Kingdom, so most are clustered around the start of spring. Hold Fast was the last to join, so we have ours in summer.’

  ‘Did the first king conquer all the other Holds?’

  ‘Mostly they surrendered,’ Daphne said. ‘The first king had the first prophet by his side, and was pretty much invincible in battle. Hold Fast held out the longest, but by then all the other Holds were allied against us, and so we joined the Realm. It might have been five hundred years ago, but the Holdfasts
have always been proud that we were the last to surrender our independence.’

  She glanced at him. ‘You ready for the heat?’

  ‘Aye,’ he said, and they stepped out into the road, where the sun beat down upon them with a searing light.

  ‘It’s hot today,’ she said, as they walked down the road to their right.

  ‘It’s like being in a furnace.’

  ‘It’ll be shaded over by the market,’ she said, ‘and we can get something to drink.’

  They followed the road to where it opened out into a large square, with low stone buildings on three sides, and the Holdfast mansion set back on the left. In the centre of the square was a great marble fountain, twelve yards in diameter, sending cascades of water into the air. Children splashed and ran in the shallows by the outer circumference, shouting and laughing in the sunshine.

  Around the fountain was a market, with lines of stalls selling cold drinks and warm food. Slabs of beef hung from hooks, and boxes of vegetables and fruit were on display. Daphne and Killop ducked under the canvas canopies of the stalls, and wandered down the line. They bought two cold ales from an old woman, and Daphne lit a cigarette .

  ‘Morning, miss,’ an old man said as they passed, bowing his head.

  ‘Morning,’ Daphne replied.

  They passed out of the market, and approached the mansion. They walked round to the rear porch, and ascended the steps. Daphne gazed up at the clockface on the side of the old tower in the distance.

  ‘Let’s sit here and finish our drinks,’ she said. ‘We’ve got a few minutes.’

  They sat down on a long, cushioned bench and watched the people in the market.

  ‘This place seems so untouched by all the wars,’ Killop said.

  ‘You may not see it, but I do,’ she said. ‘The festival this year is about half as busy as I last remember it, and there’s hardly anything for sale. And there are not many people of my age around. They’ve all been enlisted. Or killed.’

  Killop said nothing.

  ‘And it’s getting worse,’ she went on. ‘The Emperor’s raids on the Kellach quarter in Plateau City and his invasion of Rainsby have killed hundreds more, on both sides.’

  ‘Holdings fighting Kellach,’ he said, shaking his head.

  ‘And for three days now they’ve been sacking Rainsby, searching for hidden mages.’

  ‘And my sister’s body.’

  ‘The Emperor’s a fool.’

  Killop nodded at the road. ‘Your brother.’

  Daphne frowned and looked up. Jonah was approaching the mansion with two other men. A few paces behind, a small retinue of servants were carrying trays.

  Jonah climbed the steps, pausing when he saw Daphne.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said.

  ‘Good morning,’ Daphne replied.

  The two other men joined Jonah at the top of the steps and there was an awkward silence.

  ‘Are you wanting the porch?’ Daphne said.

  ‘No, no,’ Jonah said. ‘It’s fine. We can go somewhere else. ’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Daphne said, ‘we were just leaving.’

  She stood, and Killop got to his feet after her. He nodded to Jonah as he followed Daphne into the house, but her brother and his friends ignored him. They entered the cool air of the rear hall, where a water fountain bubbled in a corner.

  Daphne frowned, as the voices of Jonah and his friends came through from the porch.

  ‘I should go back there and speak to him,’ she said. ‘I saw him ignoring you.’

  ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘He’s not the only one that does it.’

  ‘I know,’ she said, ‘and it’s not on. I can see them starting to get to you.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  She looked away from Killop’s frown, and gazed out of the door where her brother sat. Servants were serving them drinks, and they were smoking and chatting. She had stopped caring what Jonah thought years before, but she felt insulted that he was treating Killop as if he were invisible. Her mother was doing much the same. She felt her temper rise.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘You’ll be late for lunch.’

  Daphne turned her back on the porch, and they walked through the hall. Servants bowed as they passed, and they made their way to a small chamber on the southern side of the mansion. In its centre was a low pool, fed by four small fountainheads, and the roof above was open. Around the walls were long couches, covered by a vaulted ceiling held up by slim pillars.

  ‘There you are,’ her father said.

  Daphne smiled, and she and Killop walked through the pillars to where her father sat reclining on a couch. A low table was set out before him, covered in dishes and jugs. Finely woven sheets were hanging from the ceiling, providing more shade.

  ‘Mummy,’ Karalyn cried, running out from behind the couch.

  ‘Hiya, Kara-bear,’ Daphne said, picking her up. ‘Have you been a good girl for Papa? ’

  ‘She has been perfectly behaved,’ her father said. ‘What have you two been up to?’

  Daphne put Karalyn down, and sat on the couch opposite her father. ‘I showed Killop round the pavilion stables, and visited our stallion.’

  ‘A fine beast,’ her father said. ‘He’s one of the best on the estate right now, the Emperor having taken most of the others.’

  Killop hoisted Karalyn up onto his shoulders.

  ‘Have a nice lunch,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  ‘Good day, Killop,’ her father said.

  Daphne waved. ‘See you this evening. And remember to duck when you go through doorways.’

  Killop smiled, and set off.

  ‘A good man,’ her father said.

  ‘Yes.’

  Her father poured drinks. ‘It’s been a while since we talked Daffie, how are you holding up?’

  ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I mean, I hadn’t seen Vince in a while, but I always thought in the back of my mind that I’d be able to speak to him again. And now I never will.’

  She bowed her head.

  ‘It was the worst moment of my life when I learned the news from the Sanang frontier,’ her father said, ‘but I can’t allow myself to wallow in grief, not when I have three other children to worry about.’

  ‘You needn’t worry about me.’

  ‘Daffie, my dear, how could I not? Up until now, we have managed to keep your presence here fairly quiet, but dozens will see you during the festival. The Emperor may be busy in Rainsby right now, but he’s bound to learn you’re back.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m not running away again. All I’ve done for the last few years is go from one end of the world to the other, and now that I’m back home the Emperor will have to come here in person to shift me.’

  Her father frowned. ‘That’s what worries me.’

  She lit a cigarette. ‘Are there many One True Path in the Holdings? ’

  He shook his head. ‘There are probably a few agents about, but they keep to themselves. When Guilliam moved his throne to Plateau City, he took the entire government with him, and the church followed. The Lord Regent officially rules from Holdings City, as the Emperor’s representative, but he has no army, and no money. The Holds have been left to fend for themselves in the main.’

  ‘Then I should be safe here, for the moment, anyway.’

  Her father nodded. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘I have a guest arriving soon, but before that, I wanted to ask you something.’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Yesterday, I saw you practising battle-vision.’

  ‘I try to do a few hours a week.’

  ‘But you’re a high mage.’

  ‘I suppose so. I mean I have every power on the vision scale, and a few extra.’

  ‘But no mage can master more than one or two powers,’ he said. ‘If you’re practising battle, what have you sacrificed?’

  ‘Nothing, I can do them all.’

  Her father spluttered. ‘What? But no, Daffie dear, that is simply impossible.
’

  Daphne frowned. She recalled hearing her lecturers at the academy say similar things.

  ‘It’s clearly not impossible. Because I can do them all. Actually, not all. I can’t speak to the Creator whenever I feel like it, but that’s not a power I’d want to have.’

  ‘So you’re saying that you can do battle, line, range, inner and outer-vision?’

  ‘Not only that,’ she said, ‘I can do them one after the other, without a break between.’

  Her father frowned. ‘Now I know you’re exaggerating.’

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I sometimes need five minutes. And a bottle of something strong helps.’

  ‘If what you’re saying is true,’ her father said, shaking his head, ‘then you’re one of the most powerful mages alive today. ’

  ‘I’m good at what I do,’ she said, ‘but one of the best? I don’t know about that.’

  ‘You’re probably not aware of this,’ he said, ‘but the toll on mages over the last few years has been devastating. And I’m not just talking about the Holdings, though we have suffered grievously. Kellach, Rahain and Rakanese high mages have been killed off in their dozens. Ten mages are now believed to have died in the ritual that gave the Emperor his powers.’

  ‘Ten? I thought you said five.’

  ‘I have learned from my sources that a further five Holdings mages died, acting as some kind of conduit. Furthermore, I believe Father Rijon was one of them.’

  ‘Rijon?’ Daphne said, masking a smile.

  ‘He was ranked at the very highest level, as were several others who have perished in the wars. What I’m getting at, my dear Daffie, is that you are most likely one of the few high mages remaining.’

  She shrugged. ‘There’s still Arnault, and Ghorley, and Princess Shella.’

  ‘Your friend Shella is missing, I’m afraid.’

  Daphne glared at him. ‘How long have you known this?’

  ‘For a while,’ he said, ‘but I didn’t want to burden you with even more worry.’

  ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘The known facts are that she was arrested by the One True Path for refusing to answer the summons for all mages to hand themselves over to the imperial authorities, and taken into custody. After that, no one knows what happened to her. There was a rumour that she might have been killed in the ritual that empowered the Emperor, but no remains have ever been found.’