Sacrifice

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘Think yer a bunch of fucking heroes, do ye?’ Dyam shouted. ‘Punching old men, and shooting unarmed women.’

  The man leered at her. ‘We might keep you, blondie. There’s Old Free still willing to pay for young Kellach flesh. ’

  ‘We should kill them all, boss,’ Tiana said.

  ‘Yeah, probably,’ he said, ‘though the red-haired guy might get us some cash, as well as the blonde one.’

  ‘Too much hassle, boss.’

  The man rubbed his chin. ‘I’ll think on it.’ He turned to the rest of his crew. ‘Get the last of the stuff into the wagons, then dismantle the camp. We’re leaving in an hour.’ He glanced at Tiana. ‘Take three and guard the prisoners.’

  The Rahain woman nodded.

  The man left the chamber, accompanied by the majority of the others, leaving Tiana and three Rahain, all armed with crossbows. Laodoc moved into a sitting position, and the others crouched down as well. Bedig remained by Bridget, ignoring everything else in the room. Agang edged along to them.

  ‘Pull out the bolt,’ he muttered.

  ‘No speaking!’ Tiana yelled.

  The Brig man blinked.

  ‘Sorry, babe,’ he whispered, and yanked the bolt from Bridget’s stomach. She convulsed in agony, blood pouring from her wound. Agang raised his hand towards her.

  ‘Get the fuck away from her!’ screamed Tiana. ‘Stop moving, and stop talking, or I’ll kill you all.’

  Laodoc caught Agang’s eye, and stood.

  ‘Please, miss,’ he said, his arms outstretched.

  Tiana strode forwards and struck him again, as Agang’s fingers reached out and made contact with Bridget’s side. Laodoc smiled as he fell. Dyam knelt by him, shaking her head.

  ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed.

  This time Laodoc had to ride the pain out on his own, as Agang was next to Bedig and Bridget, out of arm’s reach. He felt his cheek, and his fingers came away bloody.

  The prisoners sat in silence and the guards settled down, squatting or sitting against the opposite wall. Through the open doorway behind them, Laodoc watched as other members of the crew passed by with filled crates, on their way outside to where the wagons were parked.

  The next few minutes seemed like an eternity to Laodoc, his head sore and his body aching from his fall. The crew stopped work and filed outside. Their leader came back into the room, leading a young Rakanese woman by a chain linked to a collar round her neck. The woman’s face was bruised and covered in the same rashes as the Rahain, and her hands were tied behind her back.

  ‘We’re ready to go,’ he said.

  Tiana leapt to her feet. ‘Let me kill them, boss.’

  The man frowned, gazing down at the row of prisoners.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’m still inclined to take the blonde one, and him.’ He pointed at Bedig. ‘I know it’ll be a right pain in the ass, but we’ll get a good price for those two.’

  ‘So I can kill the rest?’

  As the man was about to speak there was a loud noise from outside of something catching fire, followed by shouts and cries from the Rahain crew.

  ‘Shit,’ the man said, turning. ‘Stay here.’

  He ran from the room.

  ‘But…’ Tiana said, then frowned. She stared at the prisoners. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘I’m gonna pretend I heard him say yes.’

  She glanced at the other three guards. ‘Get over here and cover me.’

  They got to their feet and approached, their crossbows levelled.

  ‘Please,’ Laodoc said. ‘You can’t…’

  ‘Watch me,’ Tiana said. She walked to the end of the line, where Bedig sat next to Bridget. The Brig woman was lying unconscious, but her bleeding had stopped.

  ‘Let’s start with her,’ the Rahain woman said, and shot Bridget in the throat.

  She began to reload but Bedig sprang up and slammed into her. As they fell to the ground, her crossbow went off, and a bolt struck Agang’s chest, sending him falling to the ground. The three other guards jumped back in fright. One of them aimed at Bedig, and shot him in the back. Dyam pulled a knife from her boot and jumped at the nearest guard.

  Laodoc shrank back against the wall, pulling Agang towards him. The Sanang man’s eyes were closed. Laodoc reached out with both hands and freed the bolt from Agang’s chest. He threw it down and held onto his friend.

  He ducked as the Rahain woman was flung over his head, crashing into the wall, and falling lifeless to the ground. Laodoc glanced up. Bedig was strangling a Rahain man, as Dyam faced off against another guard, her knife bloodied. As Bedig crushed the guard’s skull, the leader burst back into the room, a sword in his hand. He lunged forwards and slashed Bedig down the back, then thrust the blade between his shoulder blades, the point protruding from his ribs.

  Bedig collapsed to the ground, and the man pulled his sword from his back. He smiled at Dyam, who retreated, her knife grasped in her right hand, the other guard dead by her feet.

  ‘Your friends set fire to my fucking wagons, you bitch,’ he cried, advancing with his sword. Dyam moved back until she was against the wall. ‘I’m going to enjoy killing you.’

  He raised his sword.

  Agang grunted, and reached out with his hand, grabbing hold of the Rahain man’s ankle. He dropped the sword, his face contorted in pain, and fell to his knees. His eyes sank back into their sockets, and he collapsed to the floor, dead.

  Laodoc clung onto Agang. ‘My friend, you are alive!’

  Agang nodded. He tried to speak, but coughed, his breath raspy.

  Lola ran into the chamber, her sword dripping blood and her eyes in a fighting frenzy. She glared about the room, her teeth bared.

  ‘Lola!’ cried Dyam. ‘It’s us.’

  Lola gazed at the bodies of Bridget and Bedig, and broke down, sobs wracking her body. Dean appeared in the doorway, his empty hands shaking.

  Dyam staggered forward. ‘Dean. What’s going on outside? Dean? ’

  The young mage looked up. ‘Lola went mental when she saw Bonnie. She killed them all.’

  Dyam dropped the knife and fell to her knees. She stared at Bridget and Bedig.

  ‘Fuck.’

  Laodoc felt Agang pull himself from his grasp, and crawl across the floor to where the bodies of the two Brig lay. The Sanang man drew himself up and sat on the ground between them, gazing from one to the other. His head hung low, and exhaustion was etched into his face.

  ‘Who?’

  Dyam looked at him, her eyes wide. ‘Who what?’

  ‘Who do I try to save?’

  Dyam’s mouth hung open, but no words came out. Laodoc moved to Agang’s side.

  ‘Please do what you can, my friend,’ he said.

  Agang turned to Bridget.

  ‘Pull the bolt out for me.’

  The others gathered round and Laodoc ripped the crossbow bolt from Bridget’s neck. Blood seeped from the wound. Agang placed his hands on the sides of Bridget’s head, and closed his eyes, while the others stared in silence.

  For a long moment nothing happened, then Laodoc saw the hole in Bridget’s neck heal, and some colour return to her pale skin. Sweat was pouring down Agang’s face. He cried out, and collapsed onto the ground. Dyam put her face to his chest.

  ‘He’s breathing,’ she said.

  ‘What about Bridget?’ Dean said, his voice wavering.

  Dyam reached out and held onto the Brig woman’s hand.

  Bridget coughed up blood, her eyes opening. Dyam leaned her head to the side, and she vomited blood down her tunic and onto the ground. Dyam started crying, the tears rolling down her cheeks.

  Bridget tried to speak, but her voice was husky and hoarse.

  ‘Rest,’ said Laodoc, stroking the hair from her eyes. ‘Rest.’

  Lola leaned over with a skin of water, and held it to Bridget’s lips. She drank. Her eyes were cloudy and red, and her breath sounded painful and harsh.

  Laodoc stood, as tears threatened to come. H
e watched the others crowd round Bridget, staring at her with a mixture of relief and disbelief. A few yards away, Bedig’s body lay alone, the blood pooling under him. Laodoc walked to the door, went through the corridor, and emerged back into the grey light of the afternoon. The wagons were burnt-out shells. Smoke still rose from the smouldering remains of the valuables that had been packed into the crates and boxes. The corpses of the Rahain looters littered the ground. Four had arrows piercing them, while the others had been hacked to pieces. Bonnie’s body remained where she had fallen, blood soaking the earth around her.

  Laodoc wept.

  He heard a noise, and noticed Dean standing beside him.

  Laodoc turned to the young man. ‘We might all have died, were it not for you and Lola.’

  Dean nodded, but kept his eyes downcast.

  They both turned as a strange voice called to them. Laodoc scanned the side of the palace wall and saw the Rakanese woman, chained to a twisted railing by a gate.

  ‘Hello,’ he said to her.

  The young woman gazed at him. She looked to be in her teens, but the bruises and rash on her face made it difficult to tell. Laodoc approached. He opened his hands.

  ‘You’re free now,’ he said. ‘You’re safe.’

  She said something in a language he didn’t understand.

  ‘Help me, Dean,’ he said. ‘Go back inside and search their leader’s body for keys.’

  The young man ran off. Laodoc smiled at the woman, then pointed at himself.

  ‘Laodoc,’ he said.

  The woman frowned, then did the same. ‘Tara.’

  Dean re-emerged from the palace with a set of keys, passed them to Laodoc, and the old man unlocked the heavy padlock connecting the woman to the chains. She threw them to the ground, and spat on them.

  ‘Does anyone speak Rakanese?’ Dean said.

  Laodoc paused. ‘Only Bedig did, I think.’ He gazed at Tara. ‘Silverstream?’

  The woman blinked. She stared at Laodoc and Dean, then nodded.

  ‘Let’s get her some water,’ he said to Dean, ‘she’s probably…’

  His voice was cut off by the sound of a scream, ripped from Bridget’s lungs. Laodoc bowed his head.

  He walked back into the palace, Dean and Tara following. They came into the chamber. Bridget was leaning over Bedig’s body, crying and keening, while around her the others wept. Agang was sitting in silence next to them, his face drained of energy and emotion.

  Laodoc put his hand onto the Brig woman’s shoulder, then knelt and embraced her. Dyam joined them, and together they mourned over the body of Bedig.

  Chapter 16

  Holder Fast

  H oldings City, Holdings Republic – 16 th Day, Second Third Autumn 507

  ‘You’re not thinking straight,’ said Chane. She passed the lit weedstick to Daphne, as they sat crouched by the wall of the stables. ‘Not that I blame you. After what happened you’re entitled to freak out, but don’t throw your life away. Killop and Karalyn are safe in the Red Hills, remember the plan.’

  Daphne said nothing. She gazed down at her uniform, the steel chestplate, the leathers, the armour covering her left arm, and the sword buckled to her belt. Her right hand was shaking, not from fear at the approaching army of Rahain, but with the desire to kill.

  From all around came the noise of the emptying city. Most of the civilians and loyal republican forces had already left the Holdings capital, the militia of Hold Fast having elected to be the last to leave. She glanced over at the Upper City, searching for the signal flag that would let them know the evacuation was complete and they could withdraw, but saw nothing.

  ‘We’ll be out of here soon,’ Chane said, following her gaze. She smiled. ‘We’ve just got to keep it together for a few more days. You’re as tough as a nag’s hide, Daphne. I can only imagine what you’re feeling right now, but the soldiers are looking for you to lead them out of here, not to their deaths.’

  ‘I kill him, I end the war.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Chane said. ‘Just the small problem of sixty thousand Rahain soldiers protecting him. Look, I understand. It if were me, I’d want to go out there and kick the fucker’s arse. But you can’t. You have a daughter, not to mention being a proper lady now. You’ve got responsibilities.’

  Daphne took a drag of the weedstick. Vast acres of her thoughts gave her nothing but pain, and smoking helped numb her a little. Part of her wished she could lie down in a darkened room and take some dullweed to block everything out, but she knew Chane was right. She had two thousand soldiers depending on her orders. If she did what she wanted to do, and charged out to fight the Creator, what would happen to them? What would Annifrid, their commander, do? And Chane? Would she run away, or would she die by Daphne’s side? She thought back to her vision meeting with Karalyn that morning. Her daughter was still withdrawn and quiet after the massacre on the estate, and had pleaded with her mother, begging her to come north to where she and Killop were sheltering in safety.

  Her mind turned to Ariel, and the children. She closed her eyes.

  ‘Holder Fast?’

  Daphne gazed up to see a tall officer standing close by.

  ‘Yes, Lieutenant?’

  ‘The commander would like to inform you that the imperial army has been spotted on the road south, marching towards the city.’

  Daphne nodded.

  ‘Shall I pass on a message, my lady?’

  ‘No,’ Daphne said, getting to her feet and stubbing the weedstick beneath her heel. ‘I’ll speak to her myself. Is she still in the south tower?’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  She waited until Chane was standing next to her, then turned for the main street, keeping her head high as she walked, a mask of calm impenetrability fixed to her face. Soldiers bowed as she passed, some muttering greetings. She nodded to them, her eyes hard and determined. Ahead was the great enclosing wall of the Holdings capital, the stone-built defensive line surrounding the narrow streets of the Lower City. The main road south went through a massive set of gates, and to their left was the south tower, a four-storey fortification that had stood for hundreds of years, guarding the way to the River Holdings.

  Guards saluted her as she passed into the ground floor of the tower. She ascended the steps to the roof level, where a group of junior officers had assembled. Annifrid stood at their centre, her hands grasping the stone battlements as they gazed south.

  ‘Commander,’ Daphne said, walking into their midst, and taking her place by the wall. She looked down at the great road heading south by the river. On either side were fields and cottages, and in the distance the towns of the River Holdings could be seen. A great cloud of dust covered half the horizon. At its base marched the imperial army, sixty thousand Rahain infantry, their front lines carrying enormous door-sized shields.

  ‘Holder Fast,’ Annifrid bowed, ‘the company are ready to evacuate on your orders.’

  Daphne glanced over at the Upper City. No flag. She gazed back at the advancing Rahain. Somewhere, amid the mass of armour and flesh was the Creator. She clenched her right fist. Chane elbowed her way to the front to stand next to her and looked out at the approaching army.

  ‘Our cavalry will trash those bastards once we get them onto the plains,’ she said, casting her voice loud enough for the rest of the officers to hear.

  Daphne ignored her. She sent her vision out towards the army, flying over the road, then passing the line of door-shields. She saw him. The Creator made flesh. Flanked by thousands of Rahain soldiers, he was riding a grey horse. His body was covered in black armour, but he bore no weapon.

  Lady Holdfast? his voice echoed, cutting through her thoughts. Spying on me? Come to see the man who killed your family?

  Daphne pulled on every defence Kalayne had taught her, and snapped back to her body. She swayed, her face almost cracking. Chane put a hand on hers.

  ‘Take a breath,’ she whispered.

  Daphne wanted to scream, but instead she turned to face
her officers.

  ‘The evacuation of the city is almost complete,’ she said, gazing at them. ‘Our job now is to make sure the Hold Fast Company get out in one piece, while slowing down the enemy army’s advance if possible. To that end, I want every even-numbered squadron to pull back immediately to the defensive line at the junction of Nethertown and Market Lane.’ She nodded to her lieutenants. ‘Now, if you please.’

  Half of the officers bowed, then rushed down the stairs to their units.

  ‘Holder Fast,’ Annifrid frowned, ‘may I point out that the evacuation signal flag has not yet been raised over the Upper City?’

  ‘It hadn’t escaped my notice, Commander,’ Daphne said. ‘It will take thirty minutes to get half the company through to the defensive line. If we wait until the flag is raised, then we won’t have enough time to get everyone out before the enemy attacks.’

  ‘But my lady, there won’t be sufficient soldiers to defend the wall.’

  Daphne shook her head. ‘This wall isn’t going to stop the Emperor. If Keira the fire mage could blow a hole through the defences of the imperial city, which are thicker and taller than these, then the Emperor isn’t going to have much of a problem getting through.’

  Annifrid opened her mouth to speak.

  ‘Don’t worry, Commander,’ Daphne said, ‘I’ll be here until the flag is raised, you can count on that.’

  ‘Very well, my lady.’

  Daphne glanced at the advancing army, about two miles away.

  ‘All right,’ she said, ‘get every soldier down from the wall. I want first, third and fifth squadrons operating the catapults, and all the others positioned at least two streets back. Have them assemble into their squads, and wait for the Emperor to break through. He’ll probably go for the gates, so concentrate in that area, but he may hit anywhere on the southern perimeter, so be ready to move wherever you’re needed. And remember to keep an eye on the Upper City. As soon as you see that flag, get your soldiers to the assembly point by the royal ramp. Understood?’