The Magelands Epic: Soulwitch Rises (Book 7)

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘Getting busy,’ he said.

  ‘That was amazing,’ said Carrie. ‘I’m already looking forward to breakfast. I wonder if they do black pudding?’

  Cain nodded at a nearby table. ‘Check them out.’

  Lennox glanced over and saw a group of young Kellach Brigdomin women sitting drinking.

  ‘I like the look of the blonde one,’ Cain said. ‘I might introduce myself.’

  ‘Have another whisky first,’ said Lennox. He picked up the bottle. ‘Shit. Have we drunk the lot already?’

  ‘No wonder I’m feeling so pissed,’ said Carrie. ‘Not had booze in thirds.’

  ‘Lightweight,’ muttered Leisha. ‘Let’s get another bottle. The cheaper stuff, though, I’m passed the point of caring about quality.’

  ‘I’m going for a piss,’ said Lennox, ‘I’ll get one from the bar on the way back.’

  He stood, and his legs swayed. He shook his head, the whisky and ale making the room spin. He straightened himself and headed for the toilets. The tavern floor was packed, with Holdings, Kellach and Rakanese, and the volume of conversations was drowning out all other noise. Lennox managed to get through the crowd without barging into anyone, and made his way to the wooden toilet hut that sat in the tavern’s rear yard.

  A few minutes later, after relieving himself in the toilet ditch, he re-entered the tavern. At the bar he bought a bottle of gin for a few coins and went back to their table. Cain was gone, and two Kellach men were sitting by Carrie and Leisha. Lennox sat down mid-conversation and they turned to look at him.

  ‘Ah,’ said Carrie. ‘My boyfriend’s back. Told you I wasn’t making him up.’

  The two men frowned at Lennox.

  ‘Where’s Cain?’ he said.

  Leisha smirked. ‘Prowling.’ She caught sight of the bottle. ‘Pyre’s arse, I didn’t mean for you to go that cheap. Gin?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘You’ve got funny accents,’ said one of the men. ‘Where you from?’

  ‘Milltown,’ said Lennox. ‘I doubt you’d know it.’

  ‘Why? Do you think we’re stupid?’

  ‘Should I?’

  ‘I’ll put my fist through yer face, ya piece of shit,’ the man said. ‘This is our town. You think you can come in here and take the piss, eh?’

  ‘Fucksake,’ muttered Leisha. ‘Boys, we’re just trying to have a quiet drink. There’s no need for this shite.’

  The two men glared at her, then got to their feet.

  ‘Fucking ugly cows,’ one of them muttered as they walked away and Lennox got to his feet, his fists clenched.

  ‘Ach, leave it,’ said Leisha. ‘I’ll punch him myself if he comes back.’

  Lennox sat again as she opened the gin and poured each of them a stiff measure.

  Carrie raised her glass. ‘Forget about them. Tonight’s about celebrating. We’re finally on our way.’

  ‘No,’ said Leisha. ‘We’ll be on our way when we’ve got our travel documents and left Westport. We need to be keeping our heads down.’

  ‘Aye?’ said Carrie. ‘Someone should have told Cain that.’

  Lennox glanced over. Across the crowded tavern Cain was standing by a large group, talking loudly and laughing.

  Leisha shook her head. ‘This makes me nervous.’

  ‘Relax,’ said Carrie. ‘Our plan’s working.’

  ‘Aye, so let’s not blow it now.’

  Cain was regaling the group with a story, which had many in tears of laughter, and his arms were gesticulating wildly. His right hand swept out, catching the head of a serving boy, who dropped his full tray onto a table full of sitting customers, drenching them in ale.

  ‘Shit,’ Lennox muttered, as Cain began to laugh.

  One of the customers rose and pushed him in the chest, so Cain picked up a chair and smashed it down onto the man’s head, and within a few seconds, the tavern was in uproar. Fists flew towards Cain from several directions, but the ex-soldier held his ground, lashing out with a spur of wood from the broken chair. Lennox, drunk as he was, felt his training take over, and before he could stop to think what he was doing, he rushed over, Leisha and Carrie a step behind him. Forming a tight line, they barged through the crowd sending customers flying, and waded into the brawl. They reached Cain and made a square, taking down anyone that got within range of their fists. Tables were upended, and people began running for the doors. In the noise and confusion, Lennox kept his head down and his fists up, punching his way through the crowd. A whistle sounded from outside, and soldiers charged into the building with shields and batons. Someone screamed, and the crowd panicked.

  ‘Come on,’ cried Leisha, a cut down her left cheek and a bruise on her chin.

  She pulled Carrie back and shoved Lennox towards the door.

  ‘If they catch us, we’re fucked,’ she said to Lennox, her eyes wild.

  The armed soldiers drew closer, striking anyone who showed resistance. Customers were diving to the floor, their hands over their heads. Some were trampled by those still trying to run from the tavern, and the noise grew.

  A Holdings man appeared in front of them.

  ‘I rather think you should come with me,’ he said, eyeing the approaching troopers. ‘That is, unless you want to be press-ganged into the army. That’s what they do here to troublemakers like yourselves.’

  Lennox stared at him. Amid the chaos, the Holdings man was standing still, a calm assurance on his face.

  ‘I recommend you follow me,’ he said, turning and walking towards the kitchen door.

  Lennox glanced at the others, and at the shields and batons of the troopers, just a few yards away. Then he ran after the man. Carrie, Cain and Leisha rushed behind him, and they barged their way into the kitchen. Cooks were crouching by the stoves and sinks, while the Holdings man was waiting for them by a door. He unlocked it as they approached, and led them to a set of stairs. He locked the door behind them, and the ascended to the first floor, and went into a large sitting room.

  ‘Take a seat,’ the man said.

  Lennox ran to the window and glanced out. The street was filled with imperial troopers, hauling away customers.

  ‘You’re safe enough here,’ said the man, ‘but I wasn’t joking before. You four are in serious trouble. Do you have any travel documents?’

  ‘No,’ said Lennox.

  Cain slumped into a chair, panting. He had bruises all over his face, and his right eye was swollen shut. Carrie sat on a couch opposite him, while Leisha remained by the door, her eyes never leaving the Holdings man.

  ‘Are you on the list?’ he said.

  ‘The conscription list?’ said Lennox. ‘No.’

  ‘Then, I have to assume that you’re deserters. From what I saw, there’s no doubt that you’ve had military training. You were out-numbered five to one, and yet you were quite clearing winning. Marines?’

  Lennox glanced at the others, but said nothing.

  ‘No,’ the man said. ‘I’ve never heard of marines deserting before. It doesn’t matter, if you’re arrested you’ll be court-martialled or press-ganged.’

  ‘Get to the fucking point, mister,’ Leisha said. ‘You saved us back there, you must have some sort of offer you want to make us.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said the man. ‘I overheard one of you talking rather loudly about travelling to Kellach Brigdomin. Well, you’re in luck, because I happen to be the wagon-master of a caravan going there. I’m being paid handsomely to escort some wagons and passengers all the way to the Kellach town of Threeways; only I have a small problem.’

  ‘Aye?’ said Lennox.

  ‘Yes. The new conscription laws have made it impossible for me to hire guards, as every man and woman able to fight is either being called up, or is already working in an essential industry. So this is my deal. You agree to work for me, and help guard the wagons and passengers to Kellach Brigdomin, and I’ll not only help you evade capture, but I’ll get you through the gates. Travel documents, I can forge. I have some e
xperience of bending the law.’

  ‘Aye?’ said Cain. ‘What’s to stop us abandoning you once we’re on the road south?’

  ‘Money,’ the man said. ‘Your wagon and luggage are already lost to you; they’ll be confiscated and sold at auction. On the other hand, if you swear to serve me faithfully all the way to Threeways, then you will be well paid. Also, naturally, I will provide supplies for the journey along the way.’

  ‘Is this Threeways close to the coal and iron mines?’ said Lennox.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Much further south.’

  ‘Why are we going down there?’

  ‘Business.’

  ‘But there’s nothing down there. What business?’

  The man frowned. ‘What are you talking about? There are nearly half a million Kellach Brigdomin living in Domm and Brig, and settlements in Southern Kell. What do you mean, “nothing”?’

  Lennox’s eyes widened. He glanced at Leisha, but she shook her head.

  ‘Is this news to you?’ the man said. ‘Did you think it was a deserted wasteland?’

  The others said nothing.

  ‘How amusing. Regardless, are we in agreement?’

  ‘What happens if we say no?’

  ‘Then I’ll let the troopers arrest you.’

  ‘Aye?’ said Cain. ‘What if we just kill you now?’

  The man walked to a table and rang a small handbell. A door opened and eight armed guards walked in, crossbows loaded.

  The man laughed. ‘I desire twelve guards, but if I have to make do with eight, then I suppose I must. Well? Better make up your minds.’

  Lennox glanced at the others. ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘We’ll do it.’

  Chapter 5

  Lost for Words

  Rainsby, Imperial Plateau – 17th Day, Second Third Autumn 525

  Keir could range the dozen miles from the walls of Rainsby to the Rahain position in under ten minutes. At first, he had needed to relay his vision off three or four points along the way, but with practice he had soon mastered the distance in a single leap. The ground before the walls was broken, muddy and trampled after being occupied for over a year by the invading army sent by Ghorley. Every tree had been cut down, and the river that ran down the middle of the valley had been polluted by every kind of waste. Beyond the first few miles, the valley narrowed on both sides. The Rahain army had camped there for a while, until they had realised that they were still within the range of Keir’s combined fire and vision powers; after that, they had retreated to a safer area and set up a new base, with a series of ditches and palisades protecting their northern flank.

  That dawn, the Rahain army was stirring to life, and getting their daily routines underway. Keir watched the soldiers prepare breakfast by the long lines of worn and muddy tents and, as he always did, he tried to reach one of the many fires dotted throughout the camp. He could sense the flames, but their connection to him was weak and flickering; beckoning, but evading his grasp. Maybe his limit was about ten miles and, no matter how he hard he practised, it would never improve, but as the only storm mage alive, he had no way of knowing. Perhaps by the time he was eighteen he would be able to manipulate fire from a hundred miles, he thought, his heart racing at the idea. Then he would be truly unstoppable.

  After observing the encampment for a few minutes, he sent his vision south, hurtling across the hilly countryside towards the Grey Mountains. It was about the same distance away as Amatskouri was to the north, and it required considerable effort to get his vision there, but the Governor of Rainsby had asked him in front of the entire army command if he could make a daily attempt, and Keir could have hardly refused. Apparently there was another, huge, Rahain army hiding somewhere, ready to be unleashed upon the Plateau, and Keir was the only mage in the city able to get an early warning of its approach.

  It took almost an hour to reach the foothills of the Grey Mountains, and Keir could feel his energy flagging by the time the fortifications marking the entrance to the Great Tunnel came into view. Satisfied that there was no new army around, he relaxed, and his vision snapped back to his head in an instant.

  He opened his eyes and staggered as a familiar headache pounded behind his temples. Sergeant Demi put a hand on his arm to steady him, then held out a lit weedstick and an uncorked bottle.

  ‘You alright?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he muttered, taking a shot of whisky from the bottle. He plucked the weedstick from her fingers and took a draw.

  She shook her head. ‘Remember, if anyone asks, I give you cigarettes and tea after each sighting.’

  He leaned against the wooden battlements, too tired and aching to respond. They were standing on the top floor of one of a series of tall observation platforms that the military engineers in Rainsby had constructed close to the walls of the town; ideal places for Keir to vision from or, if necessary, deploy his fire skills against any attacker.

  ‘Mind you,’ the sergeant went on, ‘the soldiers here would probably respect you more if they knew the truth. Not sure the governor would agree, though.’

  Keir shrugged. He didn’t care what any of them thought.

  ‘I assume,’ she said, ‘that there was no sign of the new army?’

  ‘None. No change from yesterday.’ The keenweed was clearing his headache, and he stretched his arms, feeling a lot better. ‘Do you know what I want to do today?’

  The sergeant nodded. ‘Does it involve a four-legged, hairy beast?’

  ‘Don’t call Monty that,’ he said. ‘He’s one of the finest thorough-breeds to come out of Holdfast in a decade. My personal charger. The poor boy’s been stuck on a boat for fourteen days getting here; he’ll be needing exercise, and attention. I haven’t seen him in ages.’

  ‘This is the most excited I’ve seen you since you got here. Well, apart from that time I caught you looking down my top.’

  He flushed, and kept his eyes on her face. ‘I’ve never done that.’

  ‘I was joking,’ she said. ‘Partly.’

  She turned and gazed out over the battlements towards the rear of the walls forty yards ahead of them. Workers were repairing stretches of the rampart, and beginning the reconstruction of the stone towers that had been pulverised by the Rahain artillery. Money from the empire was pouring into Rahain, to re-supply the town before winter, and to rebuild. Fresh recruits filled the barracks blocks in the Old Town, replacing the injured and dead, but in a third or so, the supply line from the imperial capital would be cut due to the weather, with only Stretton Sands available to reach Rainsby by sea.

  Keir joined her by the wooden parapet, and passed her the weedstick. ‘How long have you been here?’

  She squinted at him. ‘Kelsey asked me that the first time I met her. You?’ She shook her head and took a draw of the weedstick before crushing it beneath the heel of a boot. ‘A bit of advice. Grown-ups like to pretend that they’re interested in the lives of others. Most probably aren’t, and folk know that, but they’re forgiven because people love to talk about themselves.’

  He frowned. ‘What’s your point?’

  ‘My point is that you should make more of an effort to ask questions about people; to at least make it look like you care what they think. If you don’t, then the folk you meet won’t get a chance to talk about themselves, and they’ll feel aggrieved, and hold it against you. Are you ambitious at all?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘With your powers, you could end up ruling the empire. Or, you could let yourself be used. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m loyal to the Empress, and would die to defend everything she stands for, but I’m thinking of the future; the long-term. You need to be careful; there are folk out there who will want to control you, and the powers you hold. Make some friends – political friends; folk you can trust, because if you carry on being ill-mannered to people, you’ll only make enemies.’

  He glanced at her, and smiled. ‘So, sergeant, how long have you been here?’

  She laughed. ‘Better.’


  ‘No, I’m serious. I want to know.’

  ‘Alright. I joined up when I was sixteen and was posted here six thirds after that. So, two and a half years? Aye. I got here in the spring of five-twenty-three, on a five-year posting. Pyre’s arse, I’m halfway through. I knew that, of course; I count the fucking days. The first year was uneventful, and then the Rahain arrived, and I guess you know the rest.’

  ‘Why did you join the army at sixteen? Is there something not right in your head?’

  ‘Says the young man of sixteen standing before me surveying a battlefield.’

  ‘Yeah, but come on, I didn’t exactly mean for all this to happen. I only left Plateau City to escape the homicidal maniac who killed my…’ His voice cut off, as memories and guilt threatened to surge to the surface.

  The sergeant watched him for a moment. ‘My father was killed in the old wars.’

  He glanced at her. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘I never knew him,’ she said, shrugging. ‘I was only a baby at the time. He died in the fighting when the Sanang, commanded by your aunt, Keira the Fire Mage, attacked Plateau City in the winter of five-oh-six. My twin sister died the following year, when the old Emperor rampaged through the capital. My mother became a soldier, and she was in the local garrison while I grew up in the Kellach quarter. She loved the Empress, still does as far as I know, and brought me up to see duty to the empire as the noblest calling. Joining the army was as natural to me as breathing. Of course,’ she said, smiling, ‘I’ve learned better since. That’s another thing I’ve picked up – there’s no point in regretting shit, you just have to get on with what’s in front of you.’

  ‘I’ll be seventeen in a few days, but it feels like I’ve been in Rainsby for much longer. I can’t even imagine how long it must feel like for you. Has it changed you?’