The Magelands Epic: Soulwitch Rises (Book 7)

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘Crap. Thirds of work and we’ve got nowhere. No idea how it works; where it’s from; what it does. And certainly no weird voices coming from it. That only happens when Karalyn touches it. I do have a theory about that, but it’s impossible to prove. I reckon that it’s her dream mage powers, the device somehow responds to them; wakes up, as it were.’ He frowned. ‘I know, that sounds ridiculous. And I can’t prove it; we’d need another dream mage for that, and I hear they’re in short supply. Regardless, I don’t think we’re on the right track at all. Maybe Karalyn could pop back to Rahain to ask Agatha if she could borrow the instruction manual.’

  Nyane smiled.

  ‘And,’ Ravi went on, ‘to be honest, Dean’s not exactly easy to work with. Grumpy all the time, hardly ever speaks, and when he does, it’s usually to ask me to stop whatever I’m doing at the time that’s annoying him.’

  ‘He’s nice once you get to know him, but that can take a while.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, I’ll take your word for it. I bet he thinks I’m a right pain in the ass. Anyway, I’m in no mood now for another day with him. Got any ideas about what else I could do? You’re the boss, I’ll do whatever job you ask. Surely there must be something more useful for someone with clay and diamond powers to be doing?’

  Nyane frowned.

  ‘Ah,’ said Ravi. ‘I see you’ve thought of something already. What is it? Does it involve mud? Haven’t done mud for a while.’

  ‘Actually, it might. Do you remember when we met in Amatskouri?’

  ‘Of course. That was some night. You made the earth move, literally.’

  ‘Do you recall telling me about an idea you’d had?’

  He frowned. ‘Let’s see. I’m not sure; I have a lot of ideas. I came up with a great new way of building walls quickly in Silverstream, not that it came to anything; the Army of Pyre bastards attacked long before the walls were complete. What you do, you see, is line up the blocks of clay in long strips…’

  ‘It wasn’t about that, though it does sound interesting. It was your idea about mixing clay and stone powers.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ he said, grinning. ‘That’s right. That was a damn fine idea.’

  ‘Indeed, I thought so too, which is why I acted on it when I got back to the imperial capital.’

  ‘What? You stole my idea?’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I credited you with having come up with it, but at that time you’d been reported as dead, so it wasn’t as if I could let you know. It doesn’t matter anyway, my attempts were a failure.’

  ‘What went wrong?’

  ‘I’ll show you if you like. The laboratory room I rented still has all of the samples in it.’

  ‘Okay.’

  They stood. Ravi picked the books up from the desk and piled them onto the nearest shelf. Nyane over-looked the breach of library rules, and they walked from the large chamber out into the central square of the university. The sun had risen, and students were walking to their classes. Nyane led Ravi through another door into a different department of the university and showed him to the room where the experiments had taken place.

  ‘The clay mage I employed,’ she said, looking for the key, ‘was highly skilled. Fourth level.’

  ‘I’m fifth,’ Ravi said.

  ‘Yes, I remember. There was a stone mage as well, of course, though he wasn’t as qualified.’

  ‘It wasn’t yourself that did it?’

  ‘I didn’t have the time.’

  She found the key and opened the door. She walked across the dusty room and swung open the shutters, letting in the daylight, and revealing several long tables, all strewn with broken pieces of ceramic, clay and stone.

  ‘My clay mage left me a while ago,’ Nyane went on, ‘after many fruitless thirds of experimenting. She went back to Amatskouri; in fact, I think she might have taken your old job.’

  ‘She’s welcome to it; I felt like a slave working there.’

  He wandered between the rows of workbenches and tables, stopping to pick up a piece or two. He shook his head. ‘Did they take notes?’

  ‘Of course. They’re on the desk over there.’

  He went over to where she pointed and wiped the dust from the cover of a large leather-bound journal. He opened it and skimmed through a few pages.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll do it. I’ll be your new clay mage. It ought to be me, anyhow, seeing as I thought of it first.’

  ‘I might have to clear it with the Empress. She asked that you be assigned to the Quadrant.’

  ‘I’m sure you can persuade her,’ he said, winking, ‘and Dean can carry on researching the damn Quadrant. It’s not like he’ll miss me or anything.’ He nodded. ‘Yeah, this sounds way more fun.’ He picked up a clump of melded ceramic and stone. ‘I can already see what they were doing wrong. Look, the grains of the stone aren’t aligned with the surrounding layer of clay. Basic mistake.’

  He handed her the piece and she held it in her hand, feeling for the rock with her powers.

  ‘You’re right. I hadn’t realised that was important.’

  ‘Well, it is.’ he said. ‘It’s because…’

  ‘Maybe later, I need to be getting back to the fortress. As for today, however, why don’t you stay here, become familiar with the work the two mages were able to carry out, and we can talk again tonight?’

  ‘Okay, you got a deal.’

  She slipped the key off the chain and passed it to him. ‘Write up anything you do, and lock the door when you’re finished.’

  ‘Sure thing,’ he said, dropping the key into a pocket. With that, he turned away to examine more pieces spread out over the tables.

  Nyane walked back to the entrance and went out into the corridor, closing the door behind her. She walked back to the inner courtyard of the university and hailed her carriage. A guard opened the door and helped her climb inside. The door swung shut as she sat, and the carriage pulled away.

  ‘There you are,’ said the Empress as Nyane walked into her private morning chamber.

  Nyane bowed. ‘Apologies if I am late, your Majesty.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ the Empress smiled. ‘I know where you were last night, and I was half-expecting you to turn up a little late. It’s good that you were able to spend some time with Dean.’

  ‘Thank you, your Majesty.’

  ‘It’s just the two of us, so you can drop the formalities, and I don’t know what in pyre’s name you’re thanking me for. Have you eaten?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good, because neither have I, and I’ve ordered up some breakfast. We can eat while we work.’

  The Empress went over to a small table by a bay window and sat.

  ‘Come on,’ she said to Nyane.

  Nyane walked to the table and took a seat opposite the Empress. ‘Will Calder be joining us?’

  ‘He’s in the courts today. It’s just me and you.’

  She rang a small handbell and a set of doors opened. Courtiers pushed in a trolley laden with food and drink, bowed, then began placing dishes and jugs onto the table. The Empress rubbed her hands. The courtiers bowed again, then left the room.

  Bridget picked up a fork. ‘I’m going to assume that you didn’t have time to write up this morning’s briefing.’

  ‘I did it last night, your Majesty.’

  ‘Oh, I thought… You were working late last night? And I was hoping for a relaxing breakfast.’

  ‘My report can wait until later.’

  ‘No, if you’ve gone to all that trouble, let’s hear it.’

  Nyane nodded. ‘Conscription notices have been posted all over the city and in every major settlement in the northern Plateau; and they’ll be going up in the Holdings in a few days. The terms are five years service or the termination of the war, whichever comes first; just as we discussed.’

  ‘Good,’ said the Empress. ‘We can’t be leaving it open-ended. If we have to do this, then we can at least give the conscripts a date to look forward to. Any sign of troubl
e yet?’

  ‘Protests have been lodged in every quarter of the city. Troops are bracing themselves for disruption; I’ve put the Old Town garrison on alert.’

  ‘What about Rakana and Sanang?’

  ‘I’ve prepared a list of demands for the two provinces,’ said Nyane. ‘In lieu of conscripts, each must provide the equivalent in taxes. Their ambassadors have been summoned. They will be here later this morning.’

  The Empress nodded, her gaze directed out of the window. ‘Who’s coming first?’

  ‘The delegation from Arakhanah City, your Majesty. I’ve squeezed them in after your meeting with the naval board.’

  ‘So, while we’ll probably get timber and coffee from the Matriarch, first I’ll have to listen to the complaints and angry refusals of the Rakanese ambassador?’

  ‘Most likely, your Majesty.’

  ‘Remember, it’s your job to make sure I don’t punch him.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘What about the Clan Council?’

  ‘They’ve already agreed to lower their share of the tariffs from the coal and iron that is extracted from their lands. That alone will save the treasury some three million a year.’

  The Empress frowned. ‘It costs more than that every third to keep Rainsby fed and secure.’

  ‘I doubt the economy of Kellach Brigdomin could take any more,’ Nyane said. ‘It’s the poorest part of the Empire by a long margin.’

  ‘Aye, fair enough.’

  ‘We aim to have the first wave of recruits into position by winter.’

  ‘How many can we spare for Stretton Sands? The sooner we get the marines out of there the better.’

  Nyane bit her lip. ‘That could be a problem, your Majesty.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘Last night, Karalyn spoke to the imperial agent stationed there. Apparently the influence of the young hedgewitch is growing. The marines have started calling her the Queen of Stretton Sands. As you know, she wants to attack Anamindhari, to destroy the rebel Sons of Sanang. There’s a chance that, if you order the marines back to Rainsby, they might refuse.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Thorn is just a girl. How can she have such sway over them?’

  ‘Those rumours we discounted,’ Nyane said. ‘It seems that they were true after all.’

  The Empress stared at her.

  ‘Thorn somehow escaped from the Sons of Sanang, then appeared on the front lines of the battle for the town. Eyewitnesses then saw her slaughter the remaining enemy, cutting them down with a gesture. Hundreds, maybe over a thousand died in a few seconds. The survivors fled, and the town was won. After that, she entered the ranks of the marines, and performed a mass healing by the harbour. The fighting had been terrible, and a great many marines had been injured. She healed them all in a single day.’

  ‘Impossible,’ said the Empress. ‘Even if she’s a soulwitch like Agang, that should be beyond her powers.’

  ‘The agent has had it confirmed from several reliable witnesses who saw it with their own eyes. I don’t know what else to say, your Majesty. I’ve certainly never heard of anyone who could do such a thing.’

  ‘Get Karalyn to speak to Agang; see if he knows any more.’

  ‘I’ll ask her.’

  The Empress shook her head. ‘If it’s true, then it would explain why the marines seem to love her so much. I think I might have made a terrible mistake in not ordering the attack on Stretton Sands. The commanders of the marines now have a taste for taking matters into their own hands. I should have them all recalled and court-martialled.’

  ‘You could.’

  ‘Don’t look at me like that. You know it would only make it worse. The marines are adored as heroes across the empire.’

  ‘But their commanders disobeyed your direct orders. They should be punished.’

  ‘Ordinary folk won’t see it like that,’ the Empress said, ‘they’d think I was jealous of their success, or some other bullshit.’

  ‘But if word gets out, then I worry that the regime may look weak. The royalist faction in the Holdings is gaining in popularity. Many there are sick of the war dragging on, and conscription may embolden their hearts. Likewise, Rakana already tries to evade its obligations; if they were to learn what happened, then they may stop cooperating altogether.’

  ‘I assume Thorn knows the truth.’

  ‘If she does, she hasn’t stated it publicly.’

  The Empress clenched her fists. ‘What a fucking mess. The forward defences of the empire are in the hands of teenagers. Thorn in Stretton Sands, and Keir bloody Holdfast in Rainsby. I’m losing control.’

  ‘Then do as the First Holder asks, and recall Keir to the imperial capital, then transfer the marines out of Stretton Sands, and arrest their commanders as soon as they step foot in Rainsby. Cut Thorn’s power from under her. Without an adoring audience, she’ll realise she’ll have to submit to imperial authority.’

  ‘That sounds like it would lead to mutiny, at least. Is there no other way?’

  ‘If you cannot, or will not, remove the young mages from their positions, then you must embrace them. Ennoble Thorn, grant her the Ladyship of Stretton Sands, and give her an honorary position in the marines, say at the level of major. Then do the same with Keir; make them co-Guardians of the Empire. Appease them, and hope they remain loyal.’

  ‘Must it be one or the other?’

  ‘Confusion will only lead to chaos, your Majesty. The people must know your thoughts on Keir and Thorn. Are they dangerous, or are they the saviours of the empire? You must decide.’

  ‘Alright,’ said the Empress, ‘we’ll appease them for now. Let it be known that regular troops will be sent to relieve Stretton Sands, and then Thorn will be free to accompany a marine expeditionary force to retake Anamindhari when the campaigning season begins again in spring.’

  ‘And the titles?’

  ‘Let me think about it.’

  ‘Very well, your Majesty.’

  ‘I wish I’d spent more time with Keir and Thorn while they were here in the capital,’ said the Empress. ‘Most of what I know of them comes from the old hedgewitches based here, and Karalyn; and none of it’s too complimentary. Lazy, arrogant, spoiled – these are the words used to describe them. If only we could get the Quadrant to work. Any news on that?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, your Majesty. I’m tempted to abandon the project and re-assign Ravi to something more useful.’

  ‘Agreed. Give Ravi something else to do and make sure the Quadrant is safely stowed back in the palace where I can keep an eye on it. I want Dean to keep researching it for now, though. I’ll give him another third to come up with something useful. After that, if we’re no further forward, it might be time to send Karalyn back into danger.’

  ‘You know how her mother feels about that.’

  ‘She’d have Belinda with her for protection. I need to know what the Rahain army behind the Grey Mountains is doing. Also, I’m sure Belinda wouldn’t be averse to carrying out some sabotage and assassinations while there. She’s a powerful asset, and we’re under-using her.’

  ‘If we were to do so,’ Nyane said, ‘it might be prudent to expand her range of skills. Fire throwing, for example, or stone powers. Imagine them combined; she could destroy the southern entrance to the Great Tunnel, and seal off Rahain for years.’

  The Empress frowned, then nodded. ‘It’s worth considering.’

  ‘It is, your Majesty, though I’m sure Karalyn would have something to say about it.’

  ‘Aye,’ said the Empress. ‘I’m sure she would.’

  Chapter 4

  Westport

  Western Plateau – 14th Day, First Third Autumn 525

  ‘This is stupid,’ said Cain, striding alongside the wagon. ‘No one’s going to believe we’re peasants.’

  ‘You had plenty chance to object before we sold the Seablade,’ said Carrie.

  ‘And I did,’ he cried. ‘This plan’s way too risky. I mean, look at us.
It’s obvious we’re fucking soldiers.’

  ‘Were soldiers,’ Leisha said.

  ‘And what are we now, deserters? How is that better?’

  ‘It’ll work,’ said Lennox. ‘Those folk in the fishing village bought our story.’

  ‘That’s because we practically gave the Seablade away. We should have beached the boat south of Westport, and walked from there.’

  ‘What, with no supplies, or winter clothes? Do you know how long it takes to walk to Kellach Brigdomin?’

  ‘Do you?’

  Lennox frowned. ‘Not exactly, but I’m guessing it’s a couple of thirds at least. That boat was the only thing of value we had to sell, and it got us the wagon, the two oxen and enough money to buy food for the journey.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Cain, ‘so long as the imperial garrison in Westport don’t just confiscate it all.’

  A raucous cry of gulls shrieked above them on the coastal path. To their left, the Inner Sea stretched out into the horizon, the early morning sunlight shining off its surface. On the other side of them rose high cliffs, with the road squeezed between the two. Leisha and Carrie were sitting up on the wagon, guiding the pair of oxen southwards towards the imperial town of Westport, while Lennox and Cain walked by its side. All were in new boots and clothes, purchased from the sale of the Seablade in the fishing village where they had berthed two days previously.

  ‘And I’m still not used to walking on land,’ Cain said, his two-third-old beard covering the lower half of his face. ‘It feels weird.’

  ‘I miss the Seablade too,’ said Carrie, ‘but we couldn’t sail the Inner Sea forever. Lennox is right – this is the only way.’

  ‘I’m glad we’re off the water,’ said Leisha. ‘The imperial navy was going to catch us sooner or later. If the fog hadn’t come down that last time, we would never have got away from those patrol boats. And I’m sick of fish. I want some red meat. And a drink. Pyre’s arse, what I wouldn’t do for a drink.’

  ‘By this evening,’ Lennox said, ‘we’ll be feasting in a tavern in Westport.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Cain, ‘either that or clapped in chains. We have no idea what we’re walking into. We know nothing about Westport.’