Bloodchild

by Anna Stephens

  ‘Thank you all for coming. For those of you who marched with me, I hope you find some ease behind the South Rank’s walls. And officers of the South Rank, let me be frank: the Wolves and civilians in this council are people I trust, people who co-ordinated and led the evacuation with me. They may not hold high office, but they have as much right to be here as you do. I know you will treat them as you would any officer. The royal physician, Hallos, travelled with us, but declined my offer to attend this council in preference to treating those who still bear the wounds of the siege. Though he is not here, I consider him a member of my staff.

  ‘As for high priestess Gilda and King Corvus’s sister, Rillirin, I am glad to see you both still live, and am most keen to learn what has befallen you since last we met.’ Gilda was tired and haunted, made no attempt to hide it. ‘Your son Chief Lim was a great man, high priestess, and he led his people with honour and fortitude. I grieve with you for his loss.’

  ‘Thank you, Commander, that is most kind. Especially as we both know how intractable he could be. But I take your words to heart.’

  Hadir tapped the table with his forefinger. ‘Commander Koridam, it will be as you say. These people have seen more of war and bloodshed than many of my own; they will be treated accordingly. And if I may, this is Colonel Jarl of Fort Two, Colonel Osric of Three, and Thatcher of Four. We thought it best that this first council include the full staff so that there is no confusion.’

  Mace nodded at them in turn. ‘A pleasure to meet you all. Let me begin by thanking you for your hospitality. We bring numbers these forts were never designed to hold, and coexisting is not going to be easy. Both my soldiers and the civilians need time and rest and food to recover from the siege and the journey here. Not to put too fine a point on it, General, but you and your Rank are all that stands between Rilpor and disaster for the next few weeks while the rest of us recuperate and formulate a country-wide offensive to end the Mireces threat once and for all.’

  Hadir gave a single sharp nod. Mace put both his hands on the table. ‘Let me be clear: this is not over, not by a long way. We mauled them, and they mauled us, yes. Our king and former Commander of the Ranks are dead, and many, if not most, of our senior officers, but they lost the Dark Lady Herself.’ Just don’t ask me how I know or who did the killing – or why.

  ‘The claim is incredible, if you will allow me to say so, Commander,’ Hadir said. ‘We are all faithful followers of the Gods of Light, but to suggest one of the Red Gods is dead …’

  ‘Dom did it. The Wolf calestar. Forgive me for speaking out of turn, I know I wasn’t there but I’ve spoken to some of the witnesses, sirs. Dom allowed himself to be captured by the Mireces and – and he fed them certain information in order to become trusted by Corvus and the Blessed One, and then there are rumours that he killed Rivil in a duel to the death. Later on, when the Dark Lady appeared in Rilporin, he killed Her too. Well, stabbed Her so the Fox God could kill Her.’

  All eyes turned to Rillirin and she flushed under their scrutiny but raised her chin, defiant. The story wasn’t hers to tell and she’d put a spin on it that didn’t sit easy with Mace, but they were certainly the facts as he understood them.

  ‘Aye, maybe he did kill Rivil, and that’s a job well done, but why was the Dark Lady there in the first place?’ Dalli demanded, shoving to her feet and knocking her chair over. ‘Because your precious Dom was torturing Crys! Torture, on the Mireces’ orders. Don’t try and make him out to be the hero of this tale. He did nothing but betray us at every turn and cause the deaths of thousands of people. He turned to Blood and you say we should thank him for it!’

  Rillirin stood too, shaking off Gilda’s restraining hand. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she started and Dalli’s eyes bulged.

  ‘I don’t know what I’m talking about?’ she raged. ‘You said yourself you weren’t even there! Well, I was there and I saw what happened. You think you know Dom because you fucked him, because you’re carrying his poisonous seed? You don’t know the first thing about him, about any of us. You were a Mireces slave for ten years, your brother is their godsdamned king – of course you’ll forgive Dom for turning Mireces himself, it justifies your own weakness, your own treason! Maybe we should be asking about your faith instead of allowing you to sit here in council with us.’

  ‘Enough.’ Mace slammed both fists into the table hard enough to rattle the cups and cut off whatever Rillirin had been about to scream. ‘Sit down or get out.’ Dalli shot her a triumphant look. ‘Both of you.’ She gaped at Mace and her expression turned murderous; he stared her out and, slowly enough to promise that this wasn’t over, she retrieved her chair and sat. Gilda hauled on Rillirin’s arm and dragged her back into her own seat.

  ‘General, Colonels, forgive me. The wounds from the siege are still raw for many of us. But let me reiterate – this is a war council. We confine ourselves to the facts and to the plan for victory. If you want to argue allegiances, do it elsewhere. My own thoughts on Dom Templeson’s actions are mixed, but no one can deny that without his aid, the Dark Lady would not have been destroyed. We cannot change his past betrayals and I do not expect that last action of his to make those of you who were there forgive him; I certainly haven’t. But he is not here and arguably he is no longer important. What is important is what we do next.’

  The silence was thick with suspicion and burgeoning embarrassment. Mace found Dalli’s leg beneath the table; she moved it deliberately from under his hand.

  ‘The … ladies do bring up a valid point,’ Colonel Thatcher said. ‘Would someone explain this information about the Fox God and how it relates to Major Tailorson again, please?’ Rillirin and Dalli glared at each other some more. ‘And what the high priestess thinks of it all, perhaps, as the authority on such matters?’

  ‘Captain Kennett here may be best placed to answer that,’ Mace said and pointed. Kennett flushed under the scrutiny and sat up a little straighter. ‘Tell the council what you know, Captain.’

  ‘Yes, Commander. Kennett, Palace Rank, sirs. I served alongside Captain Crys Tailorson as he was then before the war, and again during the siege when he was promoted to major. Great leader, sirs, talented and brave. He had command of the southern wall. He found his, ah—’ – Kennett broke off and licked his lips, shot a desperate glance at Mace who kept his face perfectly neutral – ‘—his friend dead, pinned up to a door in a deliberate provocation by the Lord Galtas Morellis, he suspected, who he’d had some sort of feud with and who had infiltrated the city. Morellis was Prince Rivil’s co-conspirator.’

  ‘Slimy, one-eyed bastard,’ Jarl muttered. ‘Wouldn’t be the first soldier he’s provoked.’

  ‘Anyway, he found his friend and, well, I mean I was there, but it’s hard to explain. He started shouting about doing whatever was needed to bring Ash back from the dead, screaming at the Dancer for allowing him to die and then … well, he broke all the glass in the district and cracked the paving stones beneath his feet. There was a sort of silver light that shone out of him, brighter than sunlight, and then Ash wasn’t dead any more and Crys – Major Tailorson, that is – was the Fox God.’

  Kennett broke off and wiped sweat from his upper lip. His face bore the expression of a man who believes he’s made a terrible mistake but is determined to see it through to the bitter end. The silence was pregnant with scepticism.

  ‘I was there, too,’ Dalli said, backing him up; Mace let out a silent huff of relief. ‘We thought you’d prefer to hear it first from a Ranker, but I was there and everything the captain has said is true. I found Ash and I know a corpse when I see one. He was dead and then he wasn’t and Crys did it. He did other things too, after that, during the siege. Held the breach almost single-handed through the night, rallied troops on the verge of breaking. Killed the Dark Lady after Dom wounded Her.’ Her voice was level again and her thigh bumped Mace’s in what might have been a silent apology. ‘Fought Gosfath, too. Crys is the Fox God come to aid us.’
<
br />   There was a snort of something like derision from Osric. ‘And where is this so-called god now?’ he asked.

  Unfortunately, that’s a good question.

  ‘We don’t know,’ Mace admitted. ‘He vanished during the retreat.’

  ‘The Fox God lives, and lives inside Crys.’ Gilda’s tone held all the calm assurance of a woman who’d spent most of her life being the voice of authority among powerful people. ‘I felt the god’s awakening even from here. He will return when we need Him.’

  ‘How convenient,’ Osric muttered, though not quietly enough.

  ‘You have something to say?’ Dalli snapped, her temper fraying again. ‘Because while you were sitting here with your cock in your hand, the rest of us were fighting and dying. Why don’t—’

  ‘Enough, Chief,’ Mace said, and the use of her new title was just enough to bring her down again. Gods, he loved her fire, but sometimes he could throttle her. ‘My father ordered the South’s three Thousands to remain here and that decision was the right one.’

  Jarl cleared his throat. ‘The enemy will be consolidating its hold not just on Rilporin but the whole country, and as it stands we don’t have enough soldiers to break that grip. What are our next steps?’

  Mace shot him a grateful look. ‘You know that Colonel Edris has gone to Listre to recruit King Tresh and an army; we hope and expect to hear from him in a matter of weeks. Until then, we need to infiltrate the major towns and gather intel on the enemy’s movements and intentions. With luck, the Mireces don’t know that we doubled back and will believe us to be in Listre, but keep sending out scouts to watch the approaches as you have been. If our presence does go unnoticed, then when we get word that Tresh is coming at the head of an army, we can pour out of here like ants and catch the bastards in a pincer, end them once and for all.’

  ‘And the Mireces’ numbers?’ asked Colonel Jarl.

  ‘No definitive idea,’ Mace said. ‘It was hand to hand in the streets for the last part of the siege. Before that, it looked as if they had six or so thousand, maybe more. More than us.’ He took a deep breath. ‘We need more troops and although I have confidence in Edris reaching King Tresh and raising an army, I’m not willing to risk the country and its inhabitants on anything less than absolute certainty. As such, I intend to send emissaries to the Warlord of Krike and negotiate a deal for their aid. It is my hope that Tresh will forgive my actions, but the survival of Rilpor is more important than lines on a map. With that in mind, I plan on offering the Krikites—’

  ‘Forgive my interruption, Commander,’ General Hadir said, ‘but that’s not an option. Commander Koridam, that is your father, Commander Durdil Koridam, sir, at the time he sent orders for our two Thousands to reinforce Rilporin, he also asked me to explore the potential for aid from Krike. The Warlord was … less than forthcoming.’

  ‘He said he looked forward to our forces wiping each other out so the Krikites could expand north into Rilpor,’ Jarl added in an acid tone.

  ‘If they wouldn’t agree to supply us with troops when we were, ah, winning, Commander, I think it’s unlikely they will now we have suffered a reverse,’ Hadir added in an apologetic tone.

  Suffered a reverse. At least he’s phrasing my crushing defeat tactfully.

  ‘That is not news I was hoping to hear, gentlemen. And there’s no way we can go back to them with an offer – say, half the Western Plain – in return for aid?’

  ‘The Warlord and his witch, the Seer-Mother, threatened to kill any envoys they came across, regardless of whether they carried the flag of parley, Commander. Once a decision is made in Krike, it’s made.’

  ‘Shit,’ Mace said. ‘So we wait for Listre and pray King Tresh is eager to claim his kingdom.’

  ‘Train the civilians,’ Colonel Thatcher said. All eyes turned to him. ‘I’m a commoner, sir, rose through the ranks to where I am now. Always dreamt of being a soldier. These civilians we’ve got, they’ve been through a siege, they’ve seen death and destruction and been unable to prevent it. Put weapons in their hands now, get commoners like me training them, and you’ll see their spines. Not just a chance to fight back, but the ability, too? We need forces – these might be all we get. Best to start working with them now.’

  ‘Women too,’ Dalli said before anyone else could speak. ‘I’m chief of my people and we know the importance of recruiting warriors whatever their gender. There’ll be women amongst this lot who spent every day of that siege waiting to be raped and killed, by their own as well as the enemy. It’s what war does. Tell them they can protect themselves and they’ll jump at the chance. I’ve spoken to dozens myself on the journey here. Give them the chance, Commander. They won’t let you down.’

  ‘I agree,’ he said. ‘We’re not just fighting for our lives; we’re fighting for our way of life, for our children and their children. We’re fighting for freedom and the Light. I won’t deny training and weapons to anyone who wants to stand at my side.’

  ‘You had that woman captain, didn’t you?’ Osric muttered.

  ‘Major Carter, yes,’ Mace said in a bland tone. ‘Your point?’ It appeared Osric didn’t have a point. ‘Right. General Hadir, I want your rested three Thousands on patrol. I want them scouting Rilporin to see what Corvus is up to and visiting Yew Cove and Pine Lock, Shingle too if the bridge over the Gil is intact. Maybe even Sailtown if the roads are clear of Mireces and you’ve men who’ll risk crossing hostile territory. Let the civilians see you’re alive and you haven’t given up hope or given up on them. Tell them aid is coming, but don’t specify from where. Tell them to stay alive. And for the love of the Dancer, buy as many supplies as you can or we’ll all starve.

  ‘But’ – Mace raised a finger to stress his point – ‘no one – and I mean not a single Ranker – is to confirm the presence of anyone from Rilporin within these forts. The longer Corvus believes us to be in Listre, the more likely he is to leave us alone and let us plan our next move. If he knows we’re here … well, let’s just say I for one have had enough of being besieged.’

  ‘And we’re sure he thinks you’re in Listre, are we?’ Jarl asked.

  ‘No,’ Mace said, ‘but let’s not hand definitive proof to him on a platter, eh? Meanwhile, let it be known across the forts that we’re taking volunteers for a militia and that it’s open to women. We’ll start training them in a week. Until then, they rest and they eat. We all do – with our safety in your hands.’

  ‘Understood, sir,’ Hadir said. ‘All right, gentlemen, let’s show Commander Koridam what the South Rank is made of.’

  CRYS

  Seventh moon, first year of the reign of King Corvus

  Green Ridge, Southern Krike

  Two out of the three of them woke screaming – again.

  By the time Crys flailed upright out of the nightmare, sweat sticking his shirt to his back, Ash was stoking up the fire and the calestar was huddled by it, gaunt and rocking. Dom’s nightmares were a product of him killing the Dark Lady. Crys’s were the result of Dom nearly killing him.

  ‘Morning,’ Crys croaked, scrubbing sweat from his face and reaching for the waterskin. Ash grabbed his hand, grazed a kiss across the knuckles. Neither of them looked at Dom. Despite the Fox God’s insistence that he should accompany them, Crys’s skin crawled every time the Wolf came near.

  It will fade.

  Crys grunted and drank. Weeks of running and hiding from Mireces and their own people to get over the border into Krike hadn’t improved his mood much, but at least now they were here and safe. Unless the Krikites decided to kill them. An archer, a god and a one-armed madman walk into Krike … Worst joke ever.

  They picked through the remains of the previous night’s meal, slung weapons and blankets scavenged from a burning Rilporin over their shoulders, and began to walk. Dom was silent. Dom was always silent and that was just how Crys liked it. He and Ash walked a few steps apart from him, unwilling to forgive – and unable to forget – what he’d done. Everything he’d done
.

  Not all the choices were his. Not all the betrayals were willing.

  And not everything he did to me was felt by you, Foxy, Crys countered. But I felt it. All of it. I looked into his eyes and saw joy.

  I looked into his soul and saw despair, the Fox God said. Crys told himself he didn’t care.

  ‘So, this Warlord,’ Ash said, picking up the threads of the conversation they’d been having for the last few days, perhaps in response to the faraway look Crys got whenever the Trickster within spoke to him. ‘Rules all of Krike?’

  ‘Sort of. He’s the military and secular arm of the government. They have a seer – Seer-Mother or Seer-Father, depending on who’s elected – who leads the priesthood and arbitrates those disputes that can’t be settled by local priests. When I served in the South Rank, the Warlord was Brid Fox-dream and the seer was a woman.’

  ‘Fox?’ Ash asked.

  ‘No relation,’ Crys said and grinned, the change of subject blowing away the last tendrils of memory and nightmare. ‘They’re quite particular about it, though. They have some ritual, performed by the priesthood once a year, I believe, when they take children of a certain age on some sort of spiritual journey and they are confronted with a … creature that they’re particularly attuned to.’

  ‘Ridiculous,’ Ash snorted. ‘Mine would be a majestic wolf, of course, with a silver pelt and noble aspect.’

  ‘Flea-bitten badger, more like,’ Crys teased him. ‘But maybe we’ll get to find out when we meet her.’

  ‘Riders,’ Dom said and pointed.

  Ash’s hand went to his bow and Crys gripped the axe he’d taken from Rilporin. Not a favoured weapon, but all he had. Dom just cradled the stump of his arm – hand severed by the same axe – and watched them come. The Fox God rumbled wariness but not danger.

  The small band cantered up and encircled them, spears pointing down at their chests. Ash twitched again but then Crys was stepping forward. ‘Greetings, warriors. May the Fox God shine His light upon you and the Dancer bless you with plenty.’ He dropped his axe into the grass and raised both hands, shirt sleeves falling back to expose the scars on his forearms. ‘You have heard of the war in Rilpor, the invasion by the Mireces and their Red Gods? We’ve come to see if you will fight alongside us – fight for your gods – to repel the heathens? May we speak with your clan chief?’