The Magelands Epic: Soulwitch Rises (Book 7)

by Christopher Mitchell

  He shot her a glance.

  She shrugged. ‘Just learning the boundaries.’

  Carrie got to her feet. ‘Dinner’ll be ready.’

  ‘I’d better go,’ Lennox said, standing. ‘I’ll see you all later, aye?’

  They nodded as he left the kitchen. He went into the hallway and grabbed a long winter coat from a hook, and picked up a bottle from the floor. A sound of chatter and laughter drifted through from the kitchen. As much as he loved his friends, he couldn’t wait to get Karalyn to himself. There was a family dinner to get through first, he thought, pulling the coat over his shoulders. It was to be his first proper introduction to the rest of the Holdfasts. He had seen them during his visits to their home, but always in passing, as he was arriving or leaving. This was what normal people did, he told himself, trying to keep the nerves from his stomach. Ordinary folk met the families of those they were seeing. Ordinary folk had families. He glanced back at the kitchen door for a moment, where the only family he had ever known was sitting, then slipped out of the apartment and into the cold and dark landing. A solitary lamp lit the stairs, and he descended to the ground floor, his heart surging with thoughts of Karalyn.

  It was a ten minute walk to her apartment along the cobbled roads of Severton. The evening sky was dark, and Lennox was already pining for lighter days. He had been told by a local that in the summer thirds it remained light well into the night; and never really got dark, and Lennox liked the sound of that. He strode along the streets, catching sight of the enormous distillery over the rooftops to his left. He had been inside a few days previously, when Dommek’s work crew had been hired to repair the roof of one of the long warehouses that stored the barrels of maturing whisky. Lennox had marvelled at the great complex. It was the biggest structure he had seen in Kellach Brigdomin, and wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Rahain city. As well as whisky, it produced an ocean of ale, which supplied the whole of Domm, and gin, almost all of which was exported to the Plateau.

  He had told Dommek about his ambition to work in the distillery, and the crew leader had asked him for a year’s service, and then he would speak to his contacts if Lennox proved his reliability and skill. He smiled. He could make a life in Severton; a good life. All he needed was for Karalyn to stay.

  His boots crunched over the ice that had formed between the cobbles. A biting wind was coming in from the west, and had the smell of the ocean on it; and snow. Lennox didn’t mind the cold; it was pure, and clean. He entered the street of expensive tenements where the Holdfasts were staying. He strode up to the front door, standing in the spot where they had first kissed, and knocked.

  A boy opened the door, and looked out, a half-smile on his lips.

  ‘Hi, Corthie,’ said Lennox.

  ‘Are you here to see my sister?’

  ‘Aye. And your mother too. I think we’re having dinner.’

  The boy’s eyes looked him up and down for a moment.

  ‘Is that him?’ cried a voice from the interior.

  ‘Aye,’ said Corthie.

  ‘Then let him in. I can feel the draught from here.’

  Corthie moved aside and Lennox entered, stamping his boots on the mat. He took off his coat as Corthie closed the door.

  ‘At last,’ said the woman’s voice again. ‘Bring him in here.’

  Corthie gestured to an open door leading off the long, well-lit hallway. Lennox walked through and came into a large chamber, its walls covered in painted wood-panelling, and its ceiling high. A fire was roaring in a massive marble hearth, and Karalyn’s mother was sitting in a chair next to it, a blanket over her knees.

  ‘Take his coat, Corthie,’ she said. ‘Remember your manners.’

  Lennox passed the boy his coat and halted in the middle of the chamber.

  ‘Closer,’ she said.

  He approached her and held out the bottle he had been carrying. ‘This is for you, ma’am.’

  ‘Very considerate of you.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Gin?’

  ‘Aye, ma’am.’

  She took it from his hands and examined the handwritten label. ‘Where did you get it, and don’t call me ma’am again.’

  ‘From the, eh… shop; the shop in the distillery.’

  She frowned. ‘They’re stocking gin now?’

  ‘They told me that a barrel had been opened for some reason, so it couldn’t be exported any more. They’ve decided to bottle and sell the rest of it.’

  She nodded, and he noticed for the first time that her left arm was shielded beneath the blanket, her hand covered.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Very thoughtful.’

  ‘Karalyn told me you liked gin.’

  ‘Karalyn, yes.’

  ‘Is she in?’

  ‘No, not yet.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Concerning my daughter,’ she said, ‘now might be a good time to have a little chat.’ She extracted a cigarette from a silver case and lit it. ‘Do you smoke?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘What I thought would be a passing phase has now reached ten days, and so now I must ask myself; who is this Lennox? And more importantly, what are his intentions towards my daughter?’ She flicked her cigarette over an ashtray. ‘I’m Holdings aristocracy, and we’re trained to politely ignore the obvious if it has any potential for embarrassment, so I’m not going to mention the fact that you’ve been sneaking around the apartment every night since the Winter’s Day festival. I’m going to pretend that this is your first visit, if that’s alright with you.’

  He frowned. ‘Alright.’

  She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head, muttering something.

  Corthie walked into the chamber and his mother glanced at him.

  ‘Back to work,’ she said. ‘Just because a guest’s here, it doesn’t mean your practice is over. We said you’d continue until your sister arrives.’

  The boy’s face fell and he wandered over to a far wall. Lennox turned to look. The large chamber was mostly empty of furniture, and a clear space dominated the polished floor. Corthie approached a rack standing up against the wall and took hold of a six-foot stave.

  His mother turned to Lennox. ‘I would stand back if I were you.’

  ‘Aye, ma’am’ he said, stepping to the side of the woman’s chair.

  ‘Don’t call me ma’am; my name’s Daphne.’

  Corthie strode forward until he reached the centre of the chamber, then took up a stance.

  ‘Very good, son,’ Daphne said. ‘Please begin.’

  The boy began to make a series of motions, slowly at first, over and over; swinging the stave in two hands while moving his feet in patterns that were familiar to Lennox from years of drill.

  ‘When can I go faster?’ the boy said.

  ‘When these movements become second nature,’ said Daphne. She turned to Lennox. ‘Army of Pyre, yes?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Do you believe in the Creator?’

  He hesitated, unsure if he knew the answer to the question. ‘I don’t know. I did, for years, but now?’

  ‘I was under the impression that the Rahain forced you all to believe.’

  ‘They did, but they also told me that no one lived down here, and that the world outside Rahain was corrupt and sinful. What I said to you just now, openly doubting the faith, is something I never could have said in Rahain.’

  She turned back to watch her son continue to practise. ‘Were you part of the invasion forces that attacked the Plateau?’

  ‘I was. Me and my friends were in the Fourth Regiment. I fought in Stretton Sands, Rainsby, and then Stretton Sands again.’

  ‘You must have killed.’

  He nodded. ‘I was a soldier.’

  ‘Not a very loyal one,’ she said. ‘You deserted, after all.’

  ‘Aye. I found I wasn’t prepared to obey orders any more.’

  ‘Do you still support the Rahain cause?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?�
��

  ‘They want to restore the rule of the Creator,’ he said, conscious of her eyes watching him, ‘but is it right to force others to follow the same god? People should be able to believe in whatever they want.’

  ‘And what about their methods?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Come on, Lennox, you must be aware of the massacres carried out by your side. Before the war in Plateau City and Amatskouri, and then the slaughters in Silverstream, Stretton Sands, Rainsby and Anamindhari; everywhere in fact that your soldiers reached. Unarmed civilians, children? It’s known that the Army of Pyre were involved in all of these atrocities. Were you?’

  He lowered his eyes, his mouth drying up.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘I was in all of those places except Anamindhari.’

  ‘You were in Silverstream?’ she said, her eyes narrowing. ‘The entire population was massacred.’

  ‘I know; I saw it happen. My squad was given the task of guarding a bridge over the river, and we could see what was going on.’

  ‘But you didn’t take part?’

  ‘The only man I killed that day was on our side, but that was when I first lost my faith in what we were doing. I wasn’t the only one; several of my squad were sickened by it. But the Army of Pyre was the only life we’d ever known. It was our family. It took time to find the strength to leave.’

  She glanced back at him. ‘And how do you feel about your time in the Army of Pyre now?’

  ‘Shame; a deep shame.’

  ‘I used to be a soldier,’ she said. ‘I too have killed, sometimes when I could have shown mercy, but decided not to. I have never once felt shame about it.’

  ‘Did you believe you were fighting for a just cause?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘I did not.’

  She nodded. ‘Were you a good soldier?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Let’s see you in action, then,’ she said, her lips changing into a sudden smile. ‘Take a stave and join Corthie.’

  ‘Are you sure? He’s only a boy.’

  ‘Corthie,’ she cried. ‘Halt, please. Lennox shall spar with you.’

  The boy grinned. ‘Alright.’

  Lennox walked over to the rack against the far wall and selected a stave. He felt its weight in his hands as he wondered how easy he should go on the boy. What was his mother thinking? Did she want him to train her son, or was she testing him in some way? He approached the centre of the floor and smiled at Corthie.

  ‘Alright,’ he said, ‘shall we start with…’

  Corthie sprang at him, his movements a blur as he swung the stave. Lennox’s reflexes took over, and he found himself dodging backwards before his brain had realised what was happening. The stave missed his head by an inch, and Lennox had barely time to raise his own weapon to shield himself from a second blow; the two staves striking each other in a clack of wood. The boy was strong as well as fast, he thought, as he defended himself against a rain of blows, waiting for an opportunity. The boy over-extended himself, and Lennox ducked low and swung the stave in a low arc, tripping him. In a second he was back on his feet, a smile on his lips as he advanced again.

  ‘Enough,’ said Daphne.

  Lennox eased back, gasping for breath and shaking his head at the boy. ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Nearly fourteen.’

  ‘Did my little brother almost beat you?’ said a voice from the door.

  He glanced up and saw Karalyn.

  ‘Just wait until I’ve started to train him properly,’ said Daphne. ‘Once I’m up and about, that’s when we can really begin in earnest.’

  Lennox said nothing, glancing at the ill woman in her seat by the fire.

  ‘You know, soldier boy, for that look you just gave me, one day I’m going to kick your arse.’

  ‘Mother!’ said Karalyn. She looked at Lennox. ‘Sorry about my family.’

  ‘He’s a fine fighter,’ said her mother. ‘Corthie would have downed most with those moves.’

  ‘Your son’s going to be a… formidable warrior one day,’ Lennox said to her. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it. Well, no; I have, but only among Holdings marines that had… oh.’ He glanced back at Corthie, who was standing with a proud grin on his face. Could it be true?

  Karalyn walked into the room and kissed him, and he forgot what he had been thinking about.

  ‘None of that in my presence,’ said Daphne as Corthie sniggered, ‘if you please.’ She swept the blanket from her legs and grasped a walking stick in her right hand. ‘Dinner, I think.’

  Lennox offered a hand to assist, but Corthie took his mother’s left arm and helped her through to the dining room where they all sat.

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ Karalyn whispered to Lennox as a servant wheeled in a trolley laden with plates and bowls. ‘I was working.’

  ‘You got a job?’

  ‘Aye. I’ll tell you about it later.’

  ‘I’m glad you were late,’ said Daphne. ‘It gave me and Lennox a little time to get to know each other. He has led an interesting life.’

  ‘I know,’ Karalyn said, ‘he’s told me.’

  Daphne smiled and glanced at Lennox as food was laid out onto the table in front of them. ‘My daughter abhors violence and the taking of life. Isn’t that right, my dear?’

  ‘It is,’ she said, ‘and I told him that too.’

  ‘Karalyn knows I was a soldier, and what that means,’ he said. ‘She also knows that life is behind me.’

  ‘Why?’ said Daphne. ‘It seems such a waste.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘You no longer believe in the Rahain cause, therefore you must see that the defence of the empire is vital for the safety of the world. You’re a fine soldier, why don’t you do the right thing and join the imperial forces? Perhaps fighting for what you believe in might erase some of the shame you were telling me about.’

  ‘The whole war sickens me.’

  ‘So you’re prepared to stand by and watch the innocent be slaughtered?’

  ‘Stop this now, mother,’ Karalyn said. ‘Not everyone’s like you. I, for one.’

  Daphne frowned. ‘We’re only here until I recover,’ she said to Lennox, ‘then we’re leaving Domm and going back to rejoin the fight.’

  ‘You don’t speak for me, mother.’

  ‘What? Get those foolish notions out of your head, girl. You have responsibilities, just as I have. You can’t hide here forever. If I had my way, we’d be gone tomorrow.’

  ‘I know, and I can’t stop you leaving once your injury is healed; but my part in the war is over. I want to stay.’

  Daphne’s face closed with anger. Her mouth opened, but she said nothing for a long moment, as the others at the table sat in silence.

  ‘We’ll discuss this later,’ she said finally, ‘when no strangers are present.’

  Lennox glanced at the two women. He could see a slight family resemblance despite Karalyn’s height, and they had the same stubborn expression as they glared at each other across the table. He wondered how wise it had been to get involved with someone who was the daughter of a famous chief, and with a mother who carried herself as if she were the empress. And a thirteen-year-old brother who fought better than many trained soldiers.

  ‘I’ve lost my appetite,’ Karalyn said, standing. She glanced at Lennox. ‘Let’s go.’

  He put down the fork he had just picked up and got to his feet. He glanced at Daphne, who gave him a cold look, then he followed Karalyn out of the dining-room and into the long, panelled hallway. Without a word, she took her coat off a peg and pulled it on.

  ‘Where are we going?’ he said, taking his own coat.

  ‘Out. Come on, before I change my mind.’

  They went out through the front door and into the dark, icy street. A light flurry of snow was falling from the thick, overcast clouds, which were reflecting the streetlamps of the town.

  ‘Know any decent bars?’ she said, lighting a cigarette as s
now landed on her hair.

  ‘One or two,’ he said, ‘if you don’t mind drinking with the work crews.’

  She shrugged. ‘Of course not.’

  They went down the cold streets until they reached a small lane close to the empty festival field. A stiff breeze was blowing in from the west, piling the snow up against the buildings in the lane. They stopped at a large green door and he pushed it open, revealing the light, noise and warmth from within. They walked into a large low-ceilinged chamber with two hearths and a bar that ran along one wall. On the straw-strewn floor were a dozen tables, where groups of Kellach Brigdomin sat, drinking ale and whisky over the sound of noisy conversations. Lennox nodded to one of Dommek’s crew that he sometimes worked with, then took a seat at the quietest table, Karalyn sitting next to him.

  A serving-girl appeared at their side.

  ‘Ale and food,’ said Karalyn. ‘Whatever you’ve got.’ She turned to Lennox as the girl went to the bar. ‘I should have asked; have you got any money?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘I’ll get it next time. I’ll be getting paid soon.’

  ‘That’s right; you got a job.’

  ‘Aye,’ she said. ‘In the provost’s office.’

  ‘Sounds good. Doing what?’

  ‘Just helping out. Listen, sorry about my mother. She has very fixed ideas about things.’

  ‘What did she mean by responsibilities?’ Lennox said. ‘Do you have responsibilities you need to go back for?’

  Karalyn lit another cigarette, her eyes low. ‘This isn’t fair on you. My mother and I have asked you a hundred questions about your life, and you’ve answered them, while I… well, I have secrets.’

  She paused as the serving-girl returned with two great mugs of ale. ‘Food’ll be five minutes,’ she said.

  ‘Cheers,’ said Lennox. He glanced back at Karalyn. ‘I guessed from the first time I saw you that you had a lot hidden, and meeting your mother and brother has shown me that it was more than I thought. But it’s fine; tell me when you’re ready.’

  She smiled and took his hand. ‘I don’t want to go back home tonight. Can I stay at yours?’

  ‘I told you, I share a room with Cain.’

  Her face fell.

  ‘If you really don’t want to go back, though, I have enough on me to rent a room for the night, somewhere half-decent.’